The wings of a bird, once shattered, now free to fly
Her brain burned beyond recognition
Her nerves frayed to the breaking point
The wall struck with the force of a speeding train
The chemical imbalance onset age 22
The collapse
Impending insanity
The beauty of a house which was never hers
The spending spree
Three orange juices
Three Dr. Peppers
Three cream sodas
And nothing else
The moment she knew, deep inside herself, that her mind was gone
The moment she voluntarily committed herself to a hospital
Still disbelieving
Still unseeing
What illness?
None
Mere joy at his victory
Mere elation at the change coming for America
Pity no sleep
Pity no food
Increased energy like nothing she had ever known
A boundless enthusiasm
A true zest for life
In layman’s terms, we call that mania
The moment she knew herself to be different
When lithium restored her brain
The moment she knew herself to be mentally ill
When she grew convinced a lover was in the hospital with her
The auditory hallucinations
Of her family screaming reassurances
The visual hallucinations
Of her stepfather dead asleep at her feet
The moment she knew her brain to be wrong
When the drugs restored her to normal
The moment
The real moment
When she found the discharge papers in her hands
Read the diagnosis
Bipolar I, mania with psychotic features
The moment
The moment will never stop
It will hit her night after night
As she dutifully takes her pills
To maintain her brain
And keep her sane.
Bipolar I, mania with psychotic features.

The cackling in the streets
Madness at my feet
I rejoined the world too soon
Committed to living doom

But once we began to talk
I found my way back to me
I’m still the same old girl, just a little bit silly

I nearly drowned inside
A fear I cannot hide
It became a fucking zoo
Watch out for the camels
They’re gonna spit on you

What dreams was I denied?
Two weeks inside
I can never get them back
But I can make up what I lack

I nearly drowned inside
A fear I cannot hide
It became a fucking zoo
Watch out for the camels
They’re gonna spit on you

The dreams will return
If I have to spit in every urn
I’ll get them back again
Cuz if there’s one thing I know
It’s that I always win

I nearly drowned inside
A fear I cannot hide
It became a fucking zoo
Watch out for the camels
They’re gonna spit on you

But once we began to talk
I found my way back to me
I’m still the same old girl, just a little bit silly

The monkeys are on my back
Jeering once again
What a silly little trap
To be back here again

I tore down the walls
Freed myself from slavery
But still the demons are creeping in
Damn I can never win

What a beautiful mistake
To think I could make her work
A moth to a flame
Still a selfish jerk

I tore down the walls
Freed myself from slavery
But still the demons are creeping in
Damn I can never win

She took a year of my life
A year as her friend
Silly romantic me
Thought it could be more
A delusional relationship

My need nearly consumed us both
Can’t form a friendship on lies
No matter how hard you try
Can’t form a friendship on need
It will not be at the right speed

I tore down the walls
Freed myself from slavery
But still the demons are creeping in
Damn I can never win

I forgive her
Her magnetism could not be helped

But I can not forgive myself
For being someone else

When you lie every day
It becomes all you say
I’m fine
Everything’s okay

I can forgive and forget
Two people running at different speeds
Will never be in sync
So why force it?
Just let the damn thing free
To blow in the wind

I tore down the walls
Freed myself from slavery
But still the demons are creeping in
Damn I can never win

There’s a fire in my gut that I can’t erase
There’s a fire in my gut and it’s called the human race
We can’t change people no matter how hard we try
We can only reach for the stars, and hope it becomes sky

I didn’t know before
The full extent of the score
But my brain has betrayed me
Left me bruised and bare
And now I know that I will always need care

We may be God’s children
But I still feel displaced
An outsider in my own family
She does not belong here
She is not one of our race

I may be crazy, but this part does not define
It’s an illness, not a cancer
But yes I call it mine
I own it proudly
It is so good to know these things

I’m just trying to find my way
Back to the girl I knew
And if she’s gone forever
Guess I’ll start anew

I’m down on my knees
Begging for inner peace
To keep the demon down
Otherwise she would surround
Me in lies
That I would never escape

We may be God’s children
But I still feel displaced
An outsider in my own family
She does not belong here
She is not one of our race

The prison of my mind is too close a reality
For awhile I felt fine
Until this knocked me on my back

We can not attack
What we can not see
At least I can’t do that
So the doctors did it for me

I’m just trying to find my way
Back to the girl I knew
And if she’s gone forever
Guess I’ll start anew

I am not an alcoholic.
I am not a selfish person.
I am not lazy.
I am not an addict.
I am not a loser.
I am a human being.
I am a woman.
I am a lesbian.
I am a feminist.
I am biracial.
I am a proud daughter.
I have rights too.
I matter.
For the first time in my life, I believe that that is true.
For the first time my life, I am proud to be an American.
For the first time in my life, I understand what it means to be a patriot.

Barack Obama has just been elected the 44th President of the United States of America. Barack Obama, the biracial liberal with the funny name, has done what everyone thought he couldn’t do, and has become the first African American president in our history.

As a biracial woman, I can’t believe this day has finally come. From the moment President-elect Obama began his campaign, he let nothing get in his way. He refused to listen to the doubters, the critics, the cynics, and – let’s call a spade a spade – the racists. He has forced those who doubted to accept him, whether they were ready or not.

His soaring rhetoric, his passion, his tenacity, his courage – that is why I believe in Barack Obama. That is why I am proud to call him my President-Elect.

I used to think being President was just a lie they told you in school. For the first time in my life, I am proud to be an American.

On the heels of my posting a few days ago regarding network censorship of Grey’s Anatomy, this evening even more disgusting news has landed upon us. Brooke Smith, who plays the butch half of the first ever lesbian pairing on network television, has been abruptly let go. She was fired, I speculate, because of gay panic. For the full details, check out Michael Ausiello’s interview with Brooke here.

A few telling excerpts:

AUSIELLO: What the hell happened?!
BROOKE SMITH: I was very excited when they told me that Erica and Callie were going to have this relationship. And I really hoped we were going to show what happens when two women fall in love and that they were going to treat it like any heterosexual couple on TV. And so I was surprised and disappointed when they just suddenly told me that they couldn’t write for my character anymore.

That’s all they said?
Yes. Frankly, it was you that warned me this might happen on the red carpet back in July. You said [sometimes networks get cold feet] with gay relationships. And I was so naive. I’m like, “It’s 2008.” But I’m starting to realize that not everyone feels the way I do.

Did you get the feeling that the story was making people nervous?
No. At work I had no sense of it. And more fans seemed to like it than not. I don’t think I’m ever going to know [why this really happened].

Cold feet? Cold feet doesn’t even begin to describe it. I have never in my years of watching lesbian characters on television witnessed a character being abruptly fired because of gay panic. It’s unheard of. Excuse me for being naive, but I live in the United States of America, where freedom of speech is not only cherished, but enumerated in our Bill of Rights. It isn’t some arbitrary piece of paper. It’s the law. It’s what I signed up for when I was born into this country, and I expect it be exercised everywhere, including in my television programming.

I can’t say that I’m surprised that this has happened, but I am outraged. What do you think? Email abc and let them know.

So I was watching the latest Grey’s Anatomy episode on dvr last night, and the audio cut out during the opening Callie/Erica scene! Grey’s Anatomy is an ABC primetime drama which is currently exploring a relationship between two women. The scene I’m referring to picks up in the morning after. It was right when Erica said, “I never … I mean, I did, but not like this.” and Callie looks down and smirks, cuz she’s apparently a badass in bed and Erica’s having her I’m Gay Gay Gay moment. It was clear it was a censor, because it picked back up right after that line. Everything after the “I never”? Silent. I had to go on abc.com to watch the unedited scene.

So WTF? Did this happen to anyone else? It’s first time using dvr, and I am pissed. It disgusts me that no matter how far we’ve supposedly come in this country, the queer characters on a mainstream network drama are censored for an innocous line about their sex lives.  If anyone watches Grey’s, you’ll know that the heterosexual characters have extremely active sex lives, and talk about them often. Hey, DVR? Queer women have sex too, and should be allowed to talk about it, and I should be allowed to watch an unedited broadcast of their relationship. Excuse for me thinking that was my right as an American citizen.

Her hands are an oasis. They warm the blood even as they beat it down.

Even as they crack the skulls on my rimshots, I am losing the memory of this moment. I am too cracked in this skull to keep this rhythm alive. I am too dead in the brain to remember how to stay sane.

The story is of an addict is an evil one. A story where men will shoot other men to obtain the special hit of the sweet stuff.

The story of an addict is one where the shakes are common, where the fuck you becomes as easy to spark as the kiss good night. The story of an addict is where everything you do falls into that moment, into that sweet escaping moment.

This time, you think. This time I can get back what I had the first time I tried it.

Every moment becomes playing catchup, trying to reach farther and farther for the first kiss of booze, for the first drag of the joint. The joint becomes your favorite friend, and the only bliss you will ever experience will ride, cherished, on that first kiss. Say hello to daddy. The first hit is the best. Though everyone says you have to hold it in, I almost prefer the cough, the dry racking gasp as the smoke leaves your lungs too quickly. The smooth curl of your tongue around that first, bitter shot of Canadian whiskey. The satisfying realization that yes, it is exactly like the stories. It really does taste like fire.

The satisfying skk, click sound as you successfully open your first bottle of Dos Equis. The tingle in your fingertips as you squeeze the lime into the bottle. The first sip of the crisp, cold liquid, falling directly into your belly. It’s better than sex. That is, better than what I imagine sex to be.

This is not the story of an addict.

This is the story of an almost.