...head.case...

...here's a glimpse into my mind...

many have tried to put together the pieces of the puzzling piece of work I am together, and only one knows me better than I know myself- my momma, may she be resting in piece- so I never got to ask her to explain myself- to, well, myself... I've been in doctor's offices since I was probably 7 or 8 years old. (my father's theory of paying people to take care of your "problems" only led me to believe that maybe he's the one with the problem, and unfortunately for him I was right...)

As he sits on his shrinks couch twice a week still asking (the same fucking question for 15 fucking years...) what's wrong with her? Why is she attracted to such "weird" and unusual things? It's NOT NORMAL!"

his "BITCH" list:
my love of tattoos, piercings, fascination with what he considers "the dark side of society", studying anatomy, bones (reading and studying the book grey's anatomy before I was 11 years old terrified him), my love of the unique, unusual and misunderstood... all of it he whines to Sheldon about...

I sometimes try to ease his nerves with the fact that I tried every horrible drug known and unknown before I was 15 by saying "don't worry daddy- I got that out of my system really young!! so no worries about putting your 20 something year old daughter in rehab now ;)

but what he will hopefully one day accept is that I'm just an artist... that's all. The way I see the world, how it processes through my eyes is just completely different than through the eyes of another. He had me do countless tests over the years... fixated on the idea that there's a "problem" with me... spending three WEEKS at Dr. Lulow's office... starting at 8am, having a break at noon, and released by 3pm... the man was obsessed with doing every test from the Wechsler Adult Intelligence Scale - Revised, to the AAMD, Rorschach Inkblot Test (ya- are you fucking serious?), and the MMPI's... so what were the results? I'm in the top 2 percentile of the world... my visual aptitude was actually unable to be read by these fucking "tests" because it was rated above the tests' own ability. It determined I'm ADHD as a mother-fucker... definitely in the low low LOOOWWWW end... but the bastard was almost pissed off instead of happy when the doctor asked me to sign a release for permission to include our entire process in a documentary series he was filming the entire time because in all of his 45 years of these psychological tests- he never saw someone whom had been off the charts in categories of association, visual perception, those puzzles (FUCK I LOVED THOSE BITCHES!!! ya in the pictures above I was playing with a rubric's cube I put together right before she finished my two sentence tattoo)... my linguistics, vocabulary blah blah blah... I mean- c'mon it's pretty fucking easy to explain what breakfast is... it's "breaking the fast"...

so sorry pops... think I'm as fucking cuckoo bananas as you want... I just know that I live in Jazzieland.... I'm a dancer, and a dreamer with my head in the clouds and my heart on my sleeve... and a little gothic hippie whom not only doesn't HAVE to explain- but the mystique alone is just enough fun for me to keep fucking with you old man...

xo
*bella*