HELLO CUPCAKE ITS ME

My Battle With Depression, Weight loss, and Diabetes

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Hello Cupcake It's Me a Podcast

Well y'all I am now going to be doing a biweekly podcast. I will be taking the YouTube videos that I make and turning them into podcasts, that will be published on Spotify and Google Podcasts. And if you are the podcast listening type of person, now you will be able to follow along in video or audio format. So a lot of what I am going to be posting on YouTube is going to make it into podcast format too.

As of right this minute I will not be doing exclusive podcast shows. However that may change in the future.

So go check out the new podcast https://anchor.fm/hellocupcakeitsme 


 

Showing support via Buy Me A Coffee

Hello Readers.
Now you can help show your support by buying me a coffee. I offer several membership levels, each with their own features and starting at only $5 USD a month.

Help support and keep things up and running and get me a cup of Emotional Support Coffee. 

Get started by checking out the page click here
 

A bit of progress (I think)

 So it has officially been two weeks since I've started monitoring my eating and trying to get out and walk and I will admit that I am starting to feel good again. Im taking my supplements and drinking water with apple cider vinegar in it and cutting back on my snacking, and trying to limit the sugar intake.

I believe that I have already lost about 5lbs. And since getting an air fryer, I have been cooking most of my meals exclusively in it. My afternoon naps are maybe 45 minutes if even that long. I lay there just long enough to rest and then I am back up and at it. 

I still am not able to do a full mile walk. When I did force a mile out of me, I suffered the rest of that day and most of the next. So I am going to continue to take it slow and work back up. I was given some CBD lotion, so im going to start using that like I once did. Because I remembered when I started walking, I was using that once or twice during the walk. I would put some on, wait a few minutes for it to get to working and then I would reapply once I got to the end of  the trail and had to turn around and go back. I am hoping to be able to do my 2 mile a day walk. I love that stretch of forest, and all the green and birds singing really make it nice.

So all i have to do is keep up and continue doing my best. Every step counts.

Why is it so expensive to be healthy?

Why is it so damn expensive to try and be healthy? 
It honestly must be a conspiracy to keep you fat and unhealthy. Like you can buy 4 cheese burgers for $3.00 but its $5 for a salad that was prepared and packaged 5 days ago.

Then you buy vitamins and supplements to try and keep healthy too and you are looking at upwards of $8 per bottle. And  then every fad diet has its own branded "specially formulated" pill to take, so everyone jumping on that bandwagon is going to buy that pill which chances are has nothing more than a multivitamin or the equivalent of a Flintstones Children's Chewable but in a fancy flashy package.

At day 3 of me getting back out on the trails and doing my walking, and looking at the mountain of vitamin bottles and supplements that I am taking. Im just thinking of how much weight my wallet is losing in the pursuit of me losing weight. 

Regardless of where I purchase my supplements (mostly Dollar Tree) it still adds up. But what do you do? Got to keep pushing on right?

Starting over again - getting back to walking

So today I started walking again. And it was really nice to be able to get up and get out and move like god damn I feel all of those days and months of inactivity since having the kidney stone. 

I just want to get back to being able to walk like I used to when I was doing two or three miles day and only being winded like toward the end of that two and a half mile marker I wanna be able to get out and start walking daily. 

I'm so sick and tired of just being winded doing the simplest things. And it really sucks because I used to be able to just get up and go and I looked forward to doing my walk for the day and there were days where I even did walks twice a day. And now I'm dreading even trying to do one walk a day. 

I'm not going to force myself into doing anything else of our major maybe starting off doing Monday Wednesday Friday type of schedule and then eventually building up to adding in Tuesdays and Thursdays. But you know they say determination is the key factor and I'm hoping that I don't lose that key again. Going on 41 and feeling like I'm in my 90s is not fun. 

I still have a lot of life left in me at least 30 something years by my account. So I don't really know what the point of this whole post is except for two chronicle that I'm going to start trying again. Something I should have started back up moments after falling ill and getting better. 

So hopefully whatever God happens to watch over us will continue to give me the strength perseverance and fortitude to continue to move forward and to lose the weight and become a healthier version of the person I am now. 

I mean I've done it before I should be able to do it again right? 

Remotely dealing with an aging parent

Its tough when you have to deal with a loved one being in the hospital. No matter what your relationship with that person may or may not be. Over the last week and a half, I have been dealing with my biological mother being in the hospital and drama of all that entails.

It started with a phone call a few weeks ago "your mom isn't doing to well" and went from there. For any of you who watch my YouTube videos, or have read any of my past updates, you will know that I have a strained but functional relationship with my biological mother.

My whole life I collected mother figures, and have never really considered my birth mother to really be my "mom". Nevertheless, I still don't really want to see her hurt, or being taken advantage of. So to get a random call out of the blue making blanketed statements about her and her health, really didn't surprise me. This considering that she has habitually used meth my entire life and probably for a long period of time prior to that. That in my 40yrs on this earth, I have only known her to maybe be sober from about 91-96. And even then I can not state my life on it. This is the woman that when I was 16yrs old, decided to chose drugs over me. To chose the drug dealer, whom I knew and was friendly acquaintances with. Not that I used drugs, but those who I chummed around with as a teen did. The man who I would watch snort up an entire 8-Ball of speed to wake up, and to go to sleep with. A man who when he wasn't smoking or snorting meth, was drinking 40's and partying with my friends uncle. A man that she married, on the heels of telling me that I was unwanted, unloved, and a mistake, should I not back her on her feelings and wanting's. A woman, who would go several long years without so much as a phone call. A woman who missed birthdays, holidays, and my high school graduation. 

So to say that there is love loss there is a bit of a dead fish in water. Its not that I dont love her, I just dont love this woman who I've come to know over the last 30 something years of my life. 
She was never the kind loving mother that television shows would make a mother out to be. Never the one to kiss a boo boo, or to readily tell you that she was proud of or that she loved you. Those were after thoughts. Like a period at the end of a sentence. like a child being reminded of "what do we say".
So it bewilders me that I would put in the amount of effort that I have making sure that all of her medical is taken care of. That she has a whole new doctor, and a doctors appointment set up for when she gets out of the hospital. But perhaps its my "fixing" nature. Perhaps its my way of trying to punish myself yet again in hopes that she will stay on the pathway that has been foraged for her. But logical mind knows better, but the heart still screams for this non-existent hope. Logic tells me daily, do not overly involve yourself, its going to blow up in your face. She's only going to do what she needs right this moment to keep her needs met.

The ultimate fear is that somehow, some way, she is going to be brought closer to my little Edan. That her poison is going to infect everything that I have struggled to create and grow. That my past, where I was Her son, awakens, and somehow her transgressions now become the crown that I bare. That those who dont know Her son, will pass judgement upon me, regardless of the years of knowing the person that I present myself to be. That her darkness will cloud an already cloudy day, and seep into every crevasse of a life that I built. I left "California" behind me. I tried to become someone new. Only to have "California" constantly on the horizon, like the sword of Damocles hanging over my head.
But one shouldn't feel this way about a mother. Yet this is what I fear. Having her back in close proximity to my fragile ecosphere. Thinking about what my exit plan would be, should she somehow darken my doorstep. Where is it that I would run this time? Where is it that would have me? That I could restart yet again?

So while other aspects of my life are good. There are those that I am trying to keep separated. Only to have real family drama unfolding in another part of my life. Trying to keep the ones that truly matter to me from falling apart, and to try and find the right words to speak, as to not cause the fault lines to further fracture. To not burden anyone else with my own problems, and my own short comings. Trying to be the rock, when my foundation at any given moment is build on a bed of quicksand. So it makes me thankful for those moments where I am not battling my own mental health. For should all of this be happening while im typically at my lowest, this would not be good. 

So I put on a strong brave face. I continue to be the "carefree" person that everyone expects, when just behind the mask, im screaming in silence and crying to the point of dehydration. But as long as the outer shell appears fine, then the dance can go on. 

2021 in Review

 As we count down the last remaining hours of 2021 I find myself reflecting over the last 365. I am reminded of the people who have left my life, as well as those who have come into it. The strain some relationships have undergone, and the strengthening of others.

I look back to just a few weeks ago when my depression was at a 30 on a scale of 0 - 10 and how shitty things felt and how hopeless I was. It seems like each depressive episode is getting harder and harder to pull out of. Perhaps I need a change of scenery, or to take some type of medication?
Its my familiar ties that anchor me to where I am at. The hatred of packing it all up and going. The destabilization of my roots to be transplanted in new soil in hopes of growing. Younger me craved such adventure. But as I approach my 41st year on this rock, I find that I am beginning to want less and less adventure, and just want safety and serenity. 

I look at late January of 2021 going into February when I was doing well on my walking, having had lost some weight, and feeling good about myself and then developing a kidney stone (of which I hope that was the first and last time that shit ever happens) to where I am now with my health. I allowed the ease of not doing to become my daily bread and butter. Where before, by 9am I had already walked 3 miles, come home and felt great about myself, and then by 6pm had gone out and walked another mile or two. Now being winded walking from my bedroom to the mailbox.
I hate myself for allowing this to transpire. But depression and health issues will do that. I look at my life and try to find where it made that "left turn at Albuquerque" instead of going the direction I had hoped it would. I recall as a  young teenager, thinking about how my life would be. I could see myself working at some Fortune 500 company in Marketing and Advertising. Being part of the Glam-arati and having a large home and flying home to visit with my parents and sister once a month or so. Not a depressed, fat, diabetic no body. 
But I have made peace with the cards that have been dealt to me, either by a rigged deck, or by my own decisions. And I fully admit that in some cases I held myself back, and didnt chase after some idea or yearning that I had. And maybe that is how things got off track? That I questioned myself instead of taking that leap of faith? But either way, im pretty sure that Ive got maybe another 30 - 35 years or so left (if the mortality rate of the males in my family are any indication) that I can maybe do at least one or two more things. Most have bucket lists and at this point I just have a fuck it list. Will I ever get to go to the UK? Probably not....FUCK IT! Will I get to go to Disneyland again? Probably not...FUCK IT! You know a "fuck it" list. 

But with all the ups and downs that 2020 and 2021 have given us. With the pandemic and which ever side of the coin you land on. We can all just agree, that we are doing the best we can, and to expect anything more than that is just, well, extra. 

So as you go into this new year, dont drag the mud of the last year into it. Forgive, make peace, reconnect with yourself and your higher power, whatever that looks like for you. And grab your new year by the balls and fuck it up!

Depression - what its like

 

The last week or so has really kicked me in the balls. My depression has been at a 14 where it has been typically at about a 5.
It suck when your brain turns against you, and you know that its "not as bad as it seems" but yet you can not break free of the crippling sadness that holds you in place. You overthink, over analyze everything that is said to you, has been said to you, or could be said to you. You feel as if you are nothing in a whole world of something. Like you are just taking up space, and in everyone's way. Like you are their own personal cross to bare and that by saying anything about how you are feeling at the moment would only cause them to drown, so you let them stand on your shoulders with all of their BS while you suffocate under the weight of your own feelings of doubt, and inadequacy. You try to be there for everyone but yourself, because helping others helps you slightly forget about all of your pain and suffering. 
Then you take to social media, and you see what others are posting, and you relate it to conversations that you had with those people earlier in the week. Your depression and the darkness that it lives in, echo each typed word you read, as if it is a direct attack on you. That every word has a wealth of meaning behind it. You picture the people typing it, doing so with you in mind. And this could be the case, or this could all be fiction. But you hold back asking for clarity because you are afraid of the answer. Yet somehow the feeling of sorrow, and anxiety and the pain of it all is easier to deal with then hearing with your own ear the inflection and convictions of someone actually saying those things to you. So you do you best to brush it off and tell your rational self that its got nothing to do with you. Yet those dark echo's tell you otherwise.

You find no comfort in things that usually bring you some small ray of happiness. You go throughout your daily motions because your programming will not allow for you to miss a day of painfully smiling and joking, even though inside you are dying, and crying out for help. The darkness holds those words at bay, and puts on a mask of normality and makes you say things that are not true, because really who wants to be bothered with your problems right?
How are your trivial problems to measure up to someone who has real issues? And why should others care about you, even though whenever you post or hint at something being wrong on social media their outpouring of support is topically there, but in reality "thoughts and prayers" is the same as "shut up" and just as stinging. 
So you lay awake night after night, watching the marching shadows dance across your walls, from one side to the other. You dont reach out any more, only to find that it seems as if no one actually cares at all. Or you get mixed signals. People reach out to you, but only for a moment and then its back to radio silence and that voice. That horrid, cold, distantly and strangely welcoming voice speaks up "see, they dont really care about you, just seeing if they need to bare you yet another day" and then the little progress you made to getting back to happy is gone. You once again have been seduced by those horrible words. That poetry of lies. The heaviness weighs you down again. Its like a warm embrace from a lover. It hurts so good. You look at the myriad of  prescriptions within arms reach, and the cold sharp things even closer. You wonder. You scheme. You daydream. You think of how easy it would be to slip away and leave them with the pain of your passing, if there would be any true pain, and not the obligatory kind and "thought provoking" words said in your absence. You know, those "I wish that they would have reached out to me" and things like that. When chances are they were part of the ingredients that added to that final supper. That their actions are what turned bad into worse. Or that you tried reaching out to people, only to have your sadness throwing into your face or callous words like "others have it way worse" or "you have nothing to be sad about" or "just put on your big boy/girl panties and deal with it" or "you are in control of your emotions, so just man up and deal with shit you are an adult not a kid anymore." All words of kindness, all words of love, all words that inspire hope, no?

Doesn't matter what the teams of medical professionals have said about you and your "conditions" as long as you "buck up" and dance in choreographed movements with what is acceptable for their world and for the societal standards. You are not allowed to burden others with any emotion other than happy, and on occasion anger. You are never ever to answer truthfully when others ask "how are you" you have to give the canned robotic "Im doing well and yourself" and never leading in with more pressing questions or things that would over extend the topical salutations of "good" and keep it moving. Because "time is money" and because you are "worthless" you have no value, so therefor you can not have my time. So then once again comes the dulling of the colors, that bitter voice from within the shadows, and all the nuances that go with being "good" and keeping it moving. 
No one celebrates seeing you the next day. No one acknowledges your invisible war, nor does any wish to see those scars, both visible and not. Only judgement that they will give, is in how you act at that moment they interact with you. If you fall out of sync with their timed dance, and offend their sensitive natures, then you are shunned yet again. They are so quick to see all the flaws that you cover with the makeup of humor and out going personality. They are so quick to say the key phrases, that like Alibaba's command, opens the floodgates that just barely holds everything in. 

How is it that we give so much power to people, that with an almost effortless gesture, they can build our whole world or destroy it within a second. How is it that they've gained so much sway? Why is it that they wield it so carelessly, like a toddler with a gun. Why is it that their words invoke love, pain, or wrath? How did we become such creatures that need these interactions and crave their presence?  

Apache Moon - short story

First I must premise this by saying it is an LGBTQ+ story. It is not graphic. But a story none the less. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think.


Apache Moon by Michael Peterson



Back then the love between same-sex people was taboo and almost outlawed. One could be beaten to death or tried for crimes that we're not committed simply under the suggestion of a sexual perversion. For those of us who found comfort in the arms of those who look like ourselves, the world was a very different place. It was the fall of 1991 when my whole world changed.

I meant a young Native American man called Dancing Bear, but his government issued name was David. Dancing Bear had long jet-black hair, high set cheekbones and Sun kissed skin in the most beautiful bronze-color you ever saw. More like a walking statue carved from some unworthy piece of mahogany. His voice was soft and melodic. Though his laughter was loud and booming, full of life and cheer. People flocked to Dancing Bear like moths drawn to flames. All the girls swooned over him, and the men touted him as a lady killer, wishing they had only a part of his natural charm and charisma.


But I knew his heart. A thing many claimed to know and understand. In Native culture they call it Twin Flame. The banter between us was always topical and child-like in its innocence and always in good humor. As I said we lived in a time where being attracted to anything other than what was "the norm" could cost you your life. Not that either of us had terminology for what we felt. We were just really good friends and talked alot about our childhood, the poor decisions our parents made, the hardships of being a kid, and school, you know, the meaningfully and important topics of "serious" youth conversations. 

We didn't attend the same school, as he went to school on the reservation. But I always rushed home to just spend as much time with him as I could before our parents called us in for the night.

Growing up I was bullied alot as a child. I came from a very small town, and was ignorant of the city and the life of the kids therein. My limited education of bigger topics, terms, and going on's, were not up to date with the more mature children of the big city school that I was forced to attend after my parents divorced. My only saving grace was Dancing Bear, and our friendship. 


On my way home from school one afternoon, my bullies Tom Fredricks and Scott Newland found me and beat me up and tore my shirt, for no other reason than the sport of it. After the assault, I gathered my few things and shuffled home whimpering and feeling sorry for myself. When I came into the apartment complex bloody and crying, Dancing Bear was the first to meet me. He asked me what had happened and I told him the whole affair. 


He walked me to my door, and gave me a hug. That was the first time he had ever hugged me. I felt his strength and his warmth. I felt a strange attraction that I had never felt before. It was like two magnets pulling, trying to unit themselves. An almost supernatural force.

Later that night I heard a tapping on my window. In the pale moonlight I could see it was him and I opened the window quickly. 

"how you doing bud?" He whispered. His voice gave me goosebumps. I dismissed the feeling and thought it must have been the cold fall weather. 

"I'm ok. My mom said she's going to the school tomorrow to talk to the principal. I asked her not to, but she's really mad" I trailed off. 

He smirked at me and said "well I think tomorrow is going to be much better. You have a good night bro." I could see that he had dirt on his face, which was unlike him to even have a hair out of place. But he ran from my window and I heard his door slam shut. 

That next morning my mother took me to school and had a meeting with the principal. When I was allowed to return to my classroom, everyone was whispering as I walked in with my pass from the office, and I took my seat. 

At break, several people came up to me and asked me about the fight that I had with Tom and Scott. I recanted the story to my small captive audience. Then I saw Tom and Scott. Both with swollen black eyes, and busted lips. Apparently the school yard thought that I did that to them, and was all a buzz about it

At lunch, I had to stand behind them. All eyes examining us. They turned to me and Tom said "bout yesterday, sorry man" and then Scott quickly added "no hard feelings" and they got out of line and cut in front of the people at the front. I didn't know what to think. Hushed whispers rang out when they quickly walked away. I felt really insecure about all of it. I was always the type to try to stay out of sight, for fear of being on some bullies radar and getting beat up, even though many times I was much larger than they were, and more stronger physically. 


That day after school I walked home as fast as I could. But I was met by Dancing Bear about a block up from the school. “Hey dweeb, how was school today?” he called out. It startled me and I got excited and replied “It was strange. Scott and Tom had black eyes and were all busted up. Everyone was talking about it. Like I did that to them. They even apologize to me.” I said as I looked over to him. He had a big grinning smirk. In the full light of the day I could see that he had a few scrapes and what appeared to be a bruise on his jaw. But with his dark complexion it was hard to tell.

“Oh good they said sorry, not that it makes up for the fact that they touched you to begin with but…” he stopped. “Did you beat them up?” I shyly asked. His smirk turned into a full smile, and he scrunched his face “I dont know what you are talking about” he snorted. No one ever did anything like that for me. Mostly I was just a wallflower. Something that was in peoples way, not something that would be noticed or even made a fuss over. “Well whoever or whatever did that to them I’m thankful for it” I said sarcastically. It was now summer and my mom found a new house that was cheaper than the apartment we currently lived in and wanted to move us away. Even though it was only a few miles away on the other side of town, it might as well been the seventh moon of Jupiter. I protested the best I could, but she had already signed the paperwork and told management that we would be out within a few weeks. 

The last night in our apartment, Dancing Bear came to my window. “Hey you.” his voice was falsely upbeat. 

“So tomorrow is the big day huh?” 

“Yeah, I dont want to go. I like it here. I dont want to leave you behind.” I confessed.

“Its not that far, we’ve walked further together. Its not like its a state away or anything. We can still hang out” he said. The thought of us still being friends and hanging out somehow made it easier to leave. But those were the promises of children. Children who had no control over where their lives would take them. After a few days of getting settled into my new house, I got on my bike and rode over to the old apartment to go see Dancing Bear. When I got there, and knocked on his door. His grandmother answered the door and said that he had been taken by Child Protective Services and placed back out on the Reservation.
My heart broke. The Reservation was twenty miles away and quite literally two cities away. Sadness and grief filled my little heart. 


Some years passed, and I had made friends with other people and had even moved back in with my father after my mother made a series of really bad decisions that affected my safety. It wasn’t until the summer of my high school graduation in 1999 that I returned to the town that I had once lived in. I still had a ton of friends and people who lived there and would come back every few weeks and visit with them when I lived with my dad. But the day after I graduated High School, I went over to my friends house, where they were having an end of the school year/graduation barbecue to celebrate. When I pulled up to the house, there were tons of people standing in the yard. Music blaring and the smell of a cook out in the air. Everyone shouted out my name as I pulled in. All but one.


A tall young man, with jet black hair down to his waist, slowly turned, as my heart dropped when we locked eyes.It was Dancing Bear. I dropped my overnight bag and ran to him and we threw our arms around each other. It had been ten long years since we saw one another. And it was just a coincidence that he was here, at my new friend's house. It was like the music and everyone disappeared. Holding back tears in my eyes I whispered into his ear “where have you been? I’ve missed you so much.” He squeezed tighter “lost until now.” Those familiar goosebumps returned to my skin, like they had that night at the window.
The onlookers were confused, as they watched this familiar intimate embrace. He wrapped his arm over my shoulder and grabbed my bag off the ground. “How the hell do you two know each other?” my friend Justin asked. We both laughed “We’ve known each other for a very long time, and its a reunion long past due.” Dancing Bear said. 


I watched him dancing, singing, fooling around, carefree and happy. Like we did growing up.How the whole world seemed to be caught in his orbit. My heart was happier than it had been in years. As night approached, we “had to go to the store”, so we excused ourselves and went for a walk. We caught each other up about what had happened over the years. What adventures we went on. And how there always seemed to be a void in our lives because we were not able to stay in contact. 

It was a full moon that night. The air was thick, but cool for a summer evening. There was an outlook that had an old grove of olive trees on it. A place that I went to many times throughout the years when I needed to get away from everyone. We sat down in the thicket of grass and just looked at the rising full moon coming up over the horizon. In the dim light, I could still see his bronze skin, and long black hair. He was outlined in pale golden yellow. It was like a dream. Us sitting together, talking, laughing the way we did when we were younger. He looked over at me and smiled. “What?” I asked. “Nothing, just looking at you. Seeing the kid I knew looking back at me from a mans face. Its nice.” I was caught off guard by this. “I love you. I have since the moment we met. You are seriously the only person who kept me sane living in those apartments. And when you left, it killed me. Part of the reason I went to live on the Reservation. I couldn’t stand being there without you” he stopped. “I came back a few days later and your mom had told me that CPS took you. I think I cried the whole way back to my house.” He put his strong arms around me and hugged me. “Well I am here now, for tonight anyways, and with you and that is all that matters. I forgot how much fun it was to be around you.” Then he kissed me. A deep longing, passionate kiss. The type of kiss that had more than love behind it. It was my first time ever kissing a man. But instinct took over and I returned it. It wasn’t ‘kissing a man’ to me, it was like kissing my other half. That part of me that had been missing my whole life up to that point. My heart, my soul, my spirit connected with his, like the magnets finally embraced. Like all that was wrong in the world, all that held us back, went away and we connected deeper than anything I had ever felt before. We laid in the grass, embraced in something that transversed the mundane. It was more than two bodies in the thralls of passion. It was the reunion of two halves made whole. It was a spiritual intimate connective bond. To call it anything other than love would be to cheapen and prevert what was taking place.

The moon now in all of its full glory swon down on us. The stars, our blanket. The earth, our bed. I laid there listening to his heart, and to the breaths he took. I never wanted it to end. But like all good things, it had to. We realized that we had been away from the party longer than was acceptable. 

“Do we have to go back?” I asked. “I dont want to either but I think its best we do” he said while putting his shirt back on. We slowly walked out of the old olive grove, this time holding hands. Another first for me, but it wasn’t strange, or unusual, it was comforting, it was home. When we got within a block of the house, we could still hear laughing and the smell of burning wood in the bonfire now. He looked at me and kissed me again. As he let go of my hand and we walked up the driveway to mingle back into the crowd. We sat around the fire listening to Art Laboe's top 40s. We all eventually made our way into the house, and into our respective sleeping areas. I laid on the floor in the den by myself, staring at the ceiling. It was dark, and cool. A shadow appeared. It was Dancing Bear. He laid next to me on the floor and draped his arm around me. He looked up at me and again our lips met. The whole dance began again. And when it was done. We held each other for what seemed like forever. And he said “I have to get back to my room, otherwise im going to fall asleep here and we’ll have some explaining to do in the morning.” And of course I protested. But I understood what he meant and didnt want to have to answer those questions when the others woke up and found us laying together. By the time I woke up that morning, he had left again. He was never one for goodbyes. But I still felt him. Like a fresh kiss was on my cheek. My Dancing Bear had returned to wherever it was that he went when we were not around each other. My heart hurt as I didnt know when or if I would see him again. 


But to this very day, full moons hold a special place in my heart. Over the years, I’ve heard through the grapevine here and there that he is doing well, or that someone spotted him in this town or that town. But I still have yet to see my Twin Spirit. But every full moon, I look up and say a prayer, that he is blessed, well, and loved.


The Waiting Room - short story

 The Waiting Room by Michael Peterson


It was a fun, beautiful summer day. My friend Stephine and I were driving along. Listening to music, laughing, and just enjoying life. In love with life but not each other. A rare platonic relationship between a man and woman. We were goofy and silly. People always made the assumption that we were together. But she had a husband and kids, and I had a proclivity to others like myself. It was our “therapy time”. Just getting in the car, with no destination, no plan, no expectations. Just get in, buckle up, and drive. We drove for what seemed like hours. Just enjoying the warm summer air coming through the windows. We pulled over to watch the sunset over a lake. Still listening to our music. The day was perfect. Just two really good friends, hanging out. As the light dimmed it began to feel like I was floating. I looked to where Stephine was and she wasn’t there. But there was a door. “What the fuck is going on” I said out loud. The music was softer now, more tinny. I noticed that the lake was nothing more than a mural on the wall. Confusion set in as I tried hard to remember what was going on. I felt drunk, and lightheaded. Like it was the first time I had ever stood or walked. None of the usual pains, or heaviness. Almost like gravity was somehow less, and that it was less effort to make simple movements. I opened the door and saw a small hallway with a few chairs and what looked like a woman with a clipboard. I walked up to her and said “hey how did I get here?” To which she said in a super cheery voice, “My name is Stephine, and you’ve been here for several hours now sir, just looking at a painting in the hall. What was it that you were looking at?” Puzzled, I said “a lake at sunset.” She smiled. “Where am I? I dont remember coming here, or where here is? Where is my friend Stephine?” my voice trailed off as I struggled to piece things together. My memory and thoughts were like trying to read a book under cloudy water. Bits and pieces came but it was fuzzy. “Oh, well this is a waiting room. A new corridor seemed to just appear to the side of her. That or I was just in so much of a daze that I didnt notice it. In this area with another set of hallways, one of them painted grey, the other well lit, and bright. There was what appeared to be a reception desk. There was an older woman with long grey, unkempt hair, in an old worn nightgown. She didn’t say anything, but anytime someone would come and write something on the clipboard on the counter by her, she would throw her arms up like she wanted a hug, and people would just walk by. She looked like she was straight out of a nursing home or an asylum. The lady behind me said “hospital! Poor dear has been her for years. This is kind of her job. Day in and day out she stands there and does the same thing over and over.” I turned to look back at her. The same repetition over and over. “Has anyone ever talked to her or asked her what she's doing here? Does she ever go home? What’s her story?” I questioned. “No. Just one day she was there. We just kinda let her be.” Stephine said. I noticed that sometimes people would come out of the Grey area and other times they would come in from the door that I had walked in through and just took a seat. But each person stopped at that clipboard, read it for a moment and signed it, and then walked past the old lady and either turn to the right or went through a set of double doors. I walked over to the clipboard. As I did I looked down the grey hallway but didnt see much as it made a right turn. There was a big picture window that I hadn’t seen behind the counter with the clipboard on it. I looked at the clipboard and there were all types of names, with little pictures next to them. Some of the names were in crayon, some fancy scrolled signatures with little doodles of a cloud, or a cat, or a heart. “You may sign it anytime you are ready to sir.” Stephine said. I looked at her and said “what is it for?” at which point a middle aged man about five foot five, heavy set, and naked and looking wet, came walking in from the gray hall. His bare feet slapping the floor with every step he took. “Excuse me” he said as he reached for the clipboard. “Um hey buddy why are you naked?” I asked. “Just happens sometimes. You never know, I guess.” And he signed his name, and drew a little car. Looked at the window, smiled and then turned to walk past the old lady, who like clockwork threw her hands up and smiled, he went over and hugged her, and continued on, and he stopped and looked at the other grey hallway, and then at the double doors like he didn’t know which way to go. “Sir” Stephine called “You want the hallway to the right.” He looked over his shoulder, and took a deep breath and sighed and turned and walked down the hall. “Is it ok for him to be naked like that?” I said to Stephine. “Oh it happens more often than you’d realize.” She said. “Well sir, its your time to sign the clipboard.” She smiled. “What is it for? And where am I? Why do I have to sign it at all? And where is my friend Stephine?” I demanded. “Sir, Im the only Stephine here right now. And this is a waiting room.” I walked over to the clipboard and the words had changed on it, but the signatures were the same. But it now said “Please inscribe your name,and draw a little picture of what makes you happy, doesn’t have to be artistic, just a doodle.” I looked at the window and it seemed to be playing a movie now. Some familiar scenes. My first dog. The christmas that I got a new bike. Swimming at a pool party. Sitting in history class doodling in the margins of my book. A dental appointment I had to get fillings. A balloon that I got at a circus when I was 5yrs old. Random unsequiencial images and events, that were personal to me. Things I had forgotten, things that had just happened. But how and why were they playing on this screen? “What…?” “You know hun” Stephine cut me off. My eyes began to well up. “You mean?” I forced the words, “but how? Why?” She furrowed her brow “why not?” I then heard a little voice behind me “‘scuse me” and a little hand pushing past me. It was a little girl about 5yrs old. Short blonde hair, and a little yellow dress with white flowers on it. She picked up the board and scribbled Sussie in a blue crayon and drew a little cat. She then went skipping toward the double doors, and the old lady crouched down and threw her hands up and Sussie went over and gave her a hug, and the lady walked her to the door and opened it for her “thank you nice lady” she said as she walked through. The old lady returned to her post, and looked at me. “Did she...was she…” my voice cracked as the realization began to set in. “Yes” Stephine said softly. “Did I ever have a friend Stephine? In the car? I mean…” again my voice left me. “You and your friend were together yes. But her name wasn’t Stephine. That is my name. And it was in the car too. I was sent to be with your friend Sarah that day. And for whatever reason you saw me and new my name, and didn’t see Mandy sitting there in the passenger seat, or standing with you at the lake. But I guess none of that matters now.” She said. “I began to write my name. And drew a balloon. I dont know why a balloon, but it was the first thing that came to mind. The old lady turned to me and threw her arms up. I knew it was now my turn to go. I looked at the elderly lady and smiled and hugged her. I got to the door and the hallway. “Oh sir” Stephine called out urgently as I reached for the door. “Apparently there's been a mistake. Not now.” I awoke. The light was blinding. My head was hurting. The beeping of machines, and the out of tune sound of voices. “Where...where am I” My voice was shaky and raspy. “You're at St. Peter’s hospital. You were in an accident over by Lake Pleasant. But you and your friend are going to be fine. You’ve been out for a few days. She’s already gone home. A car lost control while you were at the lookout and ran into the back of your car and pushed it over the embankment.” The doctor explained. Bits and pieces of those moments came back. Mandy screaming. That floating feeling. The dimming light and the muffled sounds of the radio. “You are lucky to be alive son. It was only a small drop but still someone was watching over you two that day. But now that you are awake, im going to keep your for observation for the night and you can go in the morning. Get some rest.” The doctor said. I fell back into a dreamless sleep. The next morning my discharge was early. I got up, and dressed. Still a bit weak. Mandy was there to drive me home. As we were walking we came up on a door that was opened. In there was an older woman hooked to all manner of machines. Long grey hair, and a worn nightgown. “It cant be!'' I exclaimed. “What?” Mandy asked. “I know this woman.” I went into her room. It was the same lady from the waiting room. The old lady who offered hugs to those who signed their names. I walked over to her, and took her hand in mine, and leaned over and hugged her and whispered “thank you”. For a brief moment it felt like she squeezed my hand. But she laid there motionless. A reflex perhaps. As we left the room, and nurse with a clipboard rounded the corner and cheerfully smiled “oh good morning, on your way home?” “Yes.” I quickly said “The lady in there, how long has she been here?” I asked. “Well I really cant say much, but its been several months. But I have the feeling that she is a lovely woman, who just feels that everything is better with a hug” she smiled. “Well you take care hun, we dont want to see you any sooner than you need to be.” And as she walked past I noticed her name tag said Stephine and there was a little red balloon sticker next to it. To this day I dont know if my experience in the waiting room was real, or just a delusion. I do know that Stephine and the old lady were somehow connected, and that I was changed for my interactions with them.


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Lexapro and Victoza day care daycare ddiabetes deals Death debate debit card debt decaffeinated coffee decreased gene activity deep breathing dementia Dental Work and Tooth Pain depressed Depressed Stroke Survivors May Face Triple the Risk of Death depression depression in preschoolers depression isn depression symptoms Despite Free Health Care developing diabetes development diabetes Diabetes / Diabetic News Diabetes + Depression = Increased Risk of Death diabetes exist diabetes foundation diabetes less diabetes management diabetes medication Diabetes Trials Worldwide Are Not Addressing Key Issues In Affected Populations diabetic diabetic alert dog diabetic cook book diabetic cure diabetic education videos diabetic epipen diabetic food log diabetic healing diabetic insulin diabetic logbook diabetic medical review diabetic research Diabetic Retinopathy diabetic shock diabetic software diabetic supplies diabetic. ebook diamonds diet digital camera digital logbook direct Direct Association Between Type 2 Diabetes And Obesity Found direct tv directionless dirve disability disabled disease disorders Disrupting Our Internal Clocks May Lead To A Complete Absence Of 24-Hour Bodily Rhythms And An Immediate Gain In Body Weight Ditto divorce lawyer diy mouse trap dlucose doctors donation Doughnuts down range Drexel University drinking drive drop out drug drug abuse drugs dry skin DSHS dvd e-cig e-cigarettes e-juice e-reader e-zines eastern medicine eating disorders ecigarettes Economics education Edward Norton effective treatments egg whites egg yolks electri vehicle electrical stimulation Electronic emergency emergency kit Emma Stone emotional employment empty nest EMR endocrine engraved medical id ereader ev everyone else eviction excess weight exercise exercise regularly exercise routines exterminators eye eye care eye disease eye glasses EyeBuyDirect eyebuydirect.com facebook fad diet fad diets family focused therapy Family Time fashion fatty acids favorite foods FDA feel fuller fire fish oil fitness Fitness Professionals Appreciate Online Continuing Education Options Fitness; Obesity; Diabetes; Molecular Biology; Mice; Biology flights florida Florida health kids program flu food Food and Dining food diary food network foods contain forgetfulness four more years free free android apps free diabetic wristband Free Stuff french fries fresh flowers fresh fruit Fresh Vending Machines fructose fructose corn syrup fruit full moon funeral Gadgets gangnam style Gastroesophageal gastroparesis GE X500 Power Series genes genes linked to bipolar GERD gestational diabetes Gestational Diabetes Patients Will Develop Type 2 Diabetes Give Aways giving glasses glooko glucagon Gluco(M) Glucofact glucose glucose levels glucose log glucose management glucose meter gluten free glycemic control glycemic foods glycemic index glycemic indexes godaddy google gout grain foods green tea group guest blog guest post hair loss happy Happy Birthday Hello Cupcake It's Me happy birthday to me :) happy holidays Harvey Birdman hba1c health health benefits health care healthier fast food healthy healthy foods healthy lifestyle healthy snack hearing loss heart heart attack heart broken Heart Disease; Cholesterol; Stroke Prevention; Diseases and Conditions; Chronic Illness; Heart Disease; Cholesterol; Stroke Prevention; Diseases and Conditions; Chronic Illness; diabetes Heart Disease; Cholesterol; Stroke Prevention; Diseases and Conditions; Chronic Illness; stroke Heart Disease; Cholesterol; Stroke Prevention; Diseases and Conditions; Chronic Illness; Vioxx heart monitor heart on my sleeve heart problems heart rate heath and beauty hello hellocupcakeitsme.com help hemoglobin Her high blood sugar high school High-Fat Foods May Be A Factor In Glucose Control hiv hiv1 hiv2 hobbytron.com holiday holiday's home security alarms home testing Homeless Homeless Shelter Homer Simpson honda hospitalization Household Income Affects Chronic Disease Control In Kids Humalog Human IPSC Humor Humulin R U-500 hunger hungry hurt on the job hyperglycima hyperglycimic hypertension hypoglycemia hypoglycemic hypoglycemic episode iBGStar Blood Glucose Monitoring System Ice Cream Image improvement including mufa foods infection infested infographic information injury inspriation insulated bag Insulin insulin injections insulin patch insulin pump insulin shot record insurance claims internal medicine Interspecies Transplant investments ios ios 5 iphone iphone 4 its iTunes Iwerkz Foldable Bluetooth Keyboard Review Jenna Mables jewelry joann joann fabric and craft store joint pain Journal of Alzheimer's Disease juwait Keek kenguru ketoacidosis occurs kicking the habbit kid kidcare kids Killings kindle kindle fire kitchen counter kombucha Labor and Industry Lamp;I lantus Late-Life Depression lawyer learning issues legal help Lexapro LG Rumor libido life lifestyle changes light box lincoln Link Between Creativity and Mental Illness Confirmed in Large-Scale Swedish Study Lipohypertrophy living loan Lone Star College Shooting loneliness lose weight losing weight loss plan lost low blood sugar low glucose levels Low income cell phone low income glasses low t low testosterone lower glucose lowering lowering glucose levels Luminaze lung health lyrics lyrics of depression Mainframe Support makeup managing diabetes Manic marijuana market mary lambert Master Card maya angelou Maya Angelou dead at 86 me meal plan meal prepping meals require medflash media / television medicaid Medical medical condition medical help Medical Review Medical Studies medical studies. medicare medicare part d medication medicines meditation melody road memory loss men's health Mental Health mental health issues Menu menu options merry christmas metabolic syndrome metabolism metabolites metersync blue miami Michael Keaton microstimulator military minimum purchases mission d.a.d mission dad Mixed Results On Computer-based Support For Diabetes mobility money money saving moods motivation mourning movie review Movie Reviews music music thearpy musings/thoughts/ideas must have MV-1 n-3 Fatty Acids Nanoparticle Suspension and Ultrasound Deliver Insulin Without Regular Injections natural home remdies natural suppliments need needing help needles needy negative thoughts neil diamond Network/Community networking new app new baby New Jersey's Universtiy of Medicine and Dentistry new medication New smart contact lens could monitor glucose for diabetics Nick Jonas night lights nissan no insulin Nook Tablet BNTV400 Review north aferica nova nordisk Now that the holidays are over obama obama phone obama wins 2012 obese Obesity obituries OCD ODD Oil Pulling Olycap omega-3 onetouch online magazines online medical records optical zoom optical123.com Optimus ERM optogenetics oral health oral hiv test oral swab oraquick overcome depression Oxygen paid marketing pancreas parental depression parkinsons passing Paula Deen pay attention payday payday advance paying kids to attend school pedometer personal food chart Personal Post pest pests photography pills ping plam beach county Plays poet port townsend positive thoughts Postpartum Depression pot prayer pre-owned pre-school pregnancies pregnancy prepper prepping preschool prescription president prevent complications prices processed foods product Product Review products Progress Project 1811 project rudolph proline promo codes promotional Promotions psoriasis Psy public health publich education purchas questioning quit smoking raisins reaching out real butter real-estate really scare rearrange recipes Record red meat red wine reefer reflux regenerate regular exercise rehab remodel research resistance resource resources retail therapy retinopathy revamp review Reviewing the Vapourlites Blueberry/Strawberry E Juice revitalift rich foods risk roller coaster russia rx s.a.d sadness safe sex safelink Safelink wireless sale salt Sandy Hooks Elementary School Schooting saving money savings scar school School Shooting schooling seasonal affective disorder Seattle self diagnosis self help self love self medicating senior resources seo sesame seed oil sex Shindigz Coupon Code Shootings shopping Short story shot record sick side-effects simple tips SIN TAX Site Review skin care skin tags skip meals skipping meals sleep sleep apnea smaller meals smart car smart cars smart phone smoker smokes smoking social media social security sodium software sore throat sores south beach south beach diet spiral notebook sponsored sponsored review sponsored; lawyer; family; legal; issues; sponsored/guest post spot removal. ssi Statin Labels stem cell stomach pain stoner stop smoking store stress stretch marks study submit submitted substitutions successfully lose weight sugar free sugar levels sugary foods suicidal thoughts suicide Supplementation Of Alternative Fuels Could Protect The Brain During Hypoglycemia support surgery systemic inflammation taboo tai chi take out tax tea tech teen teen mental health teens television temporary mood test animals test strips testicle testicular cancer testing testing supplies testosterone thanksgiving the learning company the lines project. #thelinesproject thearpy therapy thought Three Devastating Statistics of Diabetes Medical Malpractice title to write love on her arm tone Tosh.O toxins Tracfone trained professional transaction travel treatment trend diets tribute to my father triglycerides tsa tweets twitter twloha type 3 diabetes type-1 type-2 type-2 diabetes U.S. Medicare Part D Can't Explain North-South Disparities UK News ultra long acting UMDNJ underlying reasons Undiagnosed Pre-Diabetes Highly Prevalent in Early Alzheimer's Disease Study unhealthy unhealthy foods up and coming artist up and down upcoming holidays update uric acid usb value of a dollar vape vapor vapourlites vendor Veterans Day Video violation violence Visa Visiting Your Doctor Following ER Care For Chest Pain Reduces Risk Of Heart Attack vitamin d vitamin deficiency walking 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