Sometimes when I am alone with my thoughts, which is often, I wonder why I am the way I am. Why do I feel things so deeply? Do other people feel things this way? Why do I seem to take one step forward and three steps back so often? While I know we cannot blame who we are on someone or some event, I do know that what we walk through has a way of shaping us into who we are. Recognizing this is an integral part of our path that we walk because if we fail to do this; we will end up blaming our lot on someone else. I may appear to contradict myself at times until I am fully able to express my mind on this matter- so please bear with me.
I’ve seen stories that tell of a child surviving years of abuse and torture only to have a complete mental breakdown and never heal. I’ve watched where a woman was sexually molested, beaten, and enslaved for a long period of time and when freed she could not unfetter herself from her tortuous dreams. So, while we are responsible for our reactions to other’s actions; there are still the intricate musings of our vast beings that cannot be overlooked nor cast aside. I would like to keep these thoughts in mind as I share more about my story. I write mainly because writing is cathartic for me and also in hopes that maybe someone else would choose to share their story with me. Although it has been nearly a lifetime since my story began; so much of it is still fresh in my mind. I have spent so much of my life lamenting the way my brain and emotions work. Instead, I am coming to a tentative grip that this is who I am.
I will endeavor to write from the perspective of my story alone; but at times it will intersect with others who were with me. What I write about is true but I will change the names of other people. I hope my battles, my agony, my confusion can all touch someone’s heart who may be struggling and feel that they are alone. They are not. Sometimes I will share poems I have written to chronicle my journey. My poems are more like prayers whispered up to God in hopes that He will hear me. Thank you for taking time to read!
Rising from the dead takes time and work. It’s more difficult than one can imagine; and believe me- I imagine a great deal. I have been lying in my grave for so long I had almost given up all hope of a resurrection. Living “on the brink” and staying in the coffin is not all it’s cracked up to be. I still take my shoes off and let the grass blades peek up through my toes. Ahhhh…. feels so good. But wait. What happens when someone comes along and mows the grass? Well, you find out the answer the hard way. It’s still excruciating. It still makes you feel as if someone just spun you around while playing “pin the tale on the donkey”. You’re dizzy. You’re disoriented. You wonder if you are back in the coffin. Well, “I say, Nail the coffin shut.” Feel the pain. Absorb the blow. But stay risen. You are so much stronger than you could ever imagine.
It’s been awhile since I last wrote. Much has transpired in my life since then. I hit a new low and ended up in a psyche ward for six days. One of my greatest blessings came out of my six day stay. Hope came to stay. I thought I had lost hope, but something awakened me. Most of my blogs always had to do with my despair as I experienced it. It’s true that the years of the cult had taken it’s toll on me. So much so that I could barely think of little else. The doctor that spoke to me daily said the simplest words to me and they parted the heavens and allowed the light to pour in. I could actually feel it being absorbed into my soul. I remember telling him on that first day that “Everything was wrong” from trauma I had experienced. He looked straight into my eyes and said, “Everything???” It was then and there that hope came to me. The next day when I saw him, I told him that it was down to 200,000 things wrong that day and he laughed. Each day following, my hope grew inside me. My mind was shifting.….for the better. I have so much good in my life. I guard my mind now like a mama bear guards her cubs. I don’t wish to waste one minute of my life. I believe that someday I will be able to help people who are going through tragedy. If even just to lend an ear.
i’m finding just the spot, where all chaos ceases to live.
slowly disappearing, can you grab my hand with yours?
sinking’s not my thing, i just want it to stop.
don’t do it, don’t give in
shut it down, lock it in
can i make it numb?
does it work that way?
maybe no one will notice
if i just slip away.
too heavy, too low, it’s painful, can’t breathe-
can’t see, so dark, snakes crawling on me-
wrap around me, suck it out, till no life is left-
for then , i think, i can finally be at rest.
someone gather me up, every single part
drop me where it’s quiet; where sadness flees my heart
is that place unknown? i’m sure it is to me
cause every way to heal is unavailable and not free
how long do you flail before someone sees you dying?
twenty-five years not long enough? i’m not lying.
i don’t have the energy to fight this fight again.
lay me down in peace, so i can rest ….. amen.
you know, i’m tired…….. tired of having to explain to people why i am not “better” yet. “it was so long ago, why aren’t you over it?” i wonder how many times i have fielded that question. ignorant people should shut up. should i repeat that?? it wouldn’t help–as long as people are breathing; there will be stupid people. it’s kinda like saying to someone who is battling cancer, “why aren’t you healed yet?” HELLO!!! depression, bipolar, PTSD, obsessive/compulsive disorder are actual, REAL health problems. you see, the brain is genuinely a part of our body. (not sure if you new that or not) it’s what you call an organ. (i know the sarcasm is thick) just as any other organ in our body can become sick–our brain can too. so the next time you ask someone why they can’t stop being “depressed”– shut up!
who i am is not who you see
dangling from lightning
footloose and fancy free
a moment in time
i danced among the daisies
where thoughts were sublime
that time is past
galloped thru the wind
flew away at last
charred meat is what i eat
choking down every bite
when will it be sweet
i find it difficult to live. why is it so hard? what i am referring to is the darkness that plagues my mind. i became acquainted with this plague from a very early age. for as long as i can remember, i have worried about everything. i am so frustrated because i have spent years— many, many years working towards what i thought was healing. i don’t know if i am any closer to it now than i was back then. it seems for every thing i gain ground on, i fall back five steps. each compulsion i stop, i replace it with a different one. i am frustrated.
sometimes i wish there was a place in the middle that i could slip into.
where nothing racks my mind.
a place i can be whole.
i am not fat there.
i am not terrified of dying there.
sometimes i want to be numb.
to protect me from the pain.
sometimes when i look at others,
i wonder what they would think if they knew what was in my head.
i wonder if i will ever be whole again.