Cerebral Miscommunications

         My body is a bad communicator. My brain never communicates in advance to let me know when it's planning to break down. My body also likes to fuse issues. An example my brain will decide it's time for my back to spasm, which on its own is annoying, as it makes turning and bending hurt, but on its own can be ridden out. Yet when my brain combines back spasms and joint pain, we get a system overload. It might seem that system overload is an exaggeration, but it isn't.
           My brain is always processing and working with many different realities and thoughts. I have channels that focus on school, work, my eating disorder when I can control it, takes only one channel. Of course, I have my body channel. My CP channel. My CP channel is in charge of the uncontrollable shakes, random aches, and pains, loss of sensation and just an overall uncontrollable control over my body.  I control my CP channel some of the time, I can type, write, walk, grasp objects, some of the time. Sometimes my CP channel splits it lets me type, yet sends my legs into the uncontrollable shakes while giving me back spasms. I think the CP channel uses a randomizer to decide what it feels like shaking up. (Yes I went there with the dad joke),
      In conclusion, when you see me making funny faces, or move in weird motions when we talk or when we interact, it just means my Cerebral Palsy has taken over the reins, and I'm just along for the ride. My shakes aren't contagious and I prefer you don't ask me to stop them, I might be able to sometimes, but understand it's most of the time just cerebral miscommunications. 

Depressions Playground

The great depressive slug. This is how society likes to portray depression. As if it's a slow constant moving slug of sadness, that slides over you and holds court. The reality is little slugs full of potent depressive poison that get rained down upon your path of life and when you get caught by one you freeze up in anxiety while burning up in despair leaving you frozen in ashes.

The storm always seems like it came out of nowhere but storms always brew when the sun is out. The slugs come out when the weather changes when the winds of change and uncertainty blow through the desert of stability. The mirage of stability parches your soul; leaving dreams to die scorched by illusions of freedom.

Snakes of dreams slither through the sand of expectations, rearranging their ideas into plans of independent creation. The lack of ability to look up to the storm clouds creates flash flooding funerals of aspirations. Slugs claim martyrdom to justify their cause, fueled by ashes of despair mixed with the poison of depression.

Depression is the entire desert filled with different options to embody depending on the person, place, and time.