Tied

Tattered and tangled I pull from my pocket

A length of string, but don’t know where I got it

Red in color and as thin as a hair

You almost can’t see it, but I know it’s there

It twists and it turns before kinking in knots

Still have trouble keeping it from my thoughts

Impossible to release and unable to forget

The ending of this story seems to me: dead set

Press me for details and none you will get

For I have secrets here that are too delicate

Sharing with you just doesn’t make sense

I’d rather be elsewhere, please don’t take offense

For that string in my pocket is fit to be tied

And the other end I know I must find

Destiny and Love might await my arrival

But to be truthful I’d be content with survival

I’ll take up this voyage, and set my course

Untangle the line, and discover it’s source

My Love I am coming, it’s frightfully true

There is nowhere to hide, “I’ll find You”

The Wound

First time I anticipated the cut and saw the steel of the blade before it ever pierced the skin

The second time I was not so lucky,  it entered next to the first while that one was still barely stitched together

One puncture was now two gaping holes, and neither one given any time to heal like it needed

I was undeserving of medical care and left alone to lick my gashes, given salt from time to time to remind me

Years passed in the same cycle: pick till it bleeds, rub, pain, remember your mistake, punish yourself

Over and over again until the scar still shows the thick keloiding that comes with a repeated assault

A reminder so large now that there is no way to ignore it and no way to pretend you don’t know what caused it

The size and shape make it clear to all those who glimpse it what came before, and how I healed it

The horrors that brought that reminder, the actions of mine that brought on the attack and how I felt I deserved it

I remember every moment in exquisite agony every time I pick at it, I punish myself by making it bigger, adding to the layers of scar tissue

But no more, today I have finally been given the tool needed to lop off the entire scar

It will cut deep into my skin and free me from the prison of my own obsessive need to relive the trauma

This is the chance to finally let go of the raised ugly scar and behaviour that imprisons me

It will be a painful complicated surgery without anesthesia, going possibly down to the bone

Every possible bit of scar tissue will be removed, no chance taken this time with the proper doctor in tow

Surgery will leave a permanent mark but this scar will be different, stitched together with precision and given the proper aftercare

Allowed to heal the right way, in a calm relaxing environment and with an attentive nurse to watch over my progress

I’ll trade the old complicated oozing scar that plagued me, for a deep red line across my heart

You’ll still be able to see the scar, but now you’ll see the aftercare and love that proper healing brings to a wound of this nature

I’ll be able to display this badge of courage as a reminder of the unconditional love that fixed it, rather than the evil that caused it so long ago

If I never get better

What if, it never gets better. What if this is all there is? Can I learn to accept that I might never feel better? I might never feel worthy or worth it, I might always feel like a burden. Though this happens less, it still happens. Dealing with my trauma and healing from it makes it wax and wane, but it’s always there.

It’s there in the smile that I missed, in the kind words I didn’t hear. The feeling has nothing to do with my actual worth, and more to do with my illness, but still it remains. As I heal it can get better, but the truth it it’s like any recovery: it’s forever. No matter how good a handle you think you have on it, the universe finds ways to throw you that curve ball.

So I ask myself again, can you live with yourself? Can I go on forever knowing that I will always have this feeling that I am not good enough. That I may never believe anyone will love me unconditionally? That because I don’t have the ability to trust myself, I won’t be able to trust others? What if this is who I am now?

It’s not, right? It’s not because even as I go back now and look at my writing the weak caterpillar, yes woman, blinded by success and money is no longer there. I’m in flux, I am changing, I am capable of change… and I have to see that. If I am ever to break free from this cocoon I must remember a few things:

  1. The only constant is that everything changes
  2. That recovery is forever but it gets easier with time
  3. The time it takes for you to grow is the time it takes, it cannot be rushed or forced
  4. Before you can feel unconditional love from another, you need to have it for yourself
  5. I am a flawed human and will make mistakes
  6. That in the cocoon only at the very beginning and the very end do you know what you are
  7. The in between is just messy goo, self digested and ready for rebuilding
  8. Until I can digest all that was, I will not be able to start putting it back together

Back to eating shit for a while I guess… but hope renewed. Even if I never feel better, I will at some point learn to love and forgive myself for issues that will come up. That I will learn from them and move on. And that even if my trauma wins, I have already done so much good work, and so much good for others, that I should be proud.

If I can learn to have half the compassion that I have for others, for myself, then I am going to make it. You will too.

 

 

Night terrors

Try to write but can’t… the anxiety monster has claws in my brain today and it’s now impossible to write or think of anything but this terror. So I lay back and welcome you to my Anxiety Corner, where I drop all the irrational anxious musings that keep me from life.

You’re the reason, it’s your fault

You’re not good enough

Apologize, again apologize

There is something inherently wrong with you

You don’t deserve to be happy

You can’t be trusted, You’re wrong

See that look, that looks says they are disappointed in you

The eye roll, the deep sigh,

you’re a piece of shit in their eyes

Ignore the touch, ignore their words, focus on the negative

You know they are just going to leave you

Everyone is going to leave you, you don’t deserve them

You are broken, you are a bad person, You should be alone

Here is a list of all the mistakes you’ve made…

Rinse and repeat until you fall asleep,

wake up feeling like shit tomorrow morning.

Advice for a writer…

I know nothing about professional writing, and know even less about writing in a team. So why would I entertain the idea of writing with my newly reconciled husband?  Well honestly it’s just my gut telling me this is something we would enjoy doing together and I figured “how hard could it be?” Well we meet tomorrow to talk about our ideas and get finger to keyboard… but my anxiety is in overdrive and keeping my brain in a blocked state.

I’m pondering doing a sub-category of all this anxious mental gymnastics and dropping the thoughts/obsessions into their own pieces. I’m hoping if I write about it, the thoughts will go away. Or if they won’t, at least I have some material or some funny stories to tell.

So guys I need some help here, any advice on how to break up that block? What do you all do when the words won’t flow and the mind is stuck in 1st gear?

Phases of Becoming

So I recently read a little something out there that spoke to me, and I needed to share it with the world. It’s been the framework with which I am measuring my personal growth. It’s been accurate to a T as to what I’ve felt and how I’ve been moving through the phases. As I write this now I am in Phase 4: Lilith, and am anticipating a grand move to Phase 5: Witch. Since I’m writing a few things that reference this, I figured why not link to the original here and explain a little below?

Stage One: The beginning

Phase One: She

When you do what you’ve always done because you never bothered to question why. You live in your self created prison until you realise that you don’t have to. This is the moment you know that there is only before this moment and after this moment.

Phase Two: Becoming

Chrysalis… Simply me right now… stuck in the middle.

Stage Two: The burn down

Phase Three: Eve

Surrender to the process and the “fact finding” phase. I love research and I’m hungry for all the knowledge I can find.

Phase Four: Lilith

Dancing in the fire, yup… dancing around in the turmoil now. I still don’t KNOW things… but I am getting there. Discovery has been a “trial by fire” time and I embrace it fully.

Phase Five: Witch

There is a KNOWing that comes with this stage, and acting on that knowledge that I just can’t muster the strength for yet. But soon…

Stage Three: The birth

When you emerge with your knowledge as your true self.

Phase Six: Goddess

Time to show the world who you have become.

Phase Seven: Me

Enjoying your true self and teaching others.

As I begin my new set of positive affirmations, I hope to push what I have learned so far into forms of knowing. Being able to believe and know in my heart what I have found is true, and then being able to use that knowledge to affect the world around me is huge. I have never had control of my own life before, it has always been varying degrees of beholdenness to the ideas others pressed upon me… I can’t wait to be not just free but confident as well.

To me! Eventually…

Becoming Me

I have been through hell and back in the last few months. I lost myself, my grandmother, my husband (almost, and maybe still), and the rest of my immediate family (save one sibling). Family secrets, trauma, bullshit, and the mourning process (both for my marriage and for my grandmother) shattered me. I fell completely to pieces… but I think that’s the only way I can put myself back together again.

I am on a journey with myself to myself, and I don’t really know where it will end. But I’m ready to go. I am in the Fuck off phase right now. Doing what I want for me and what I need. Trying to discover who I really am by doing what I want and not what others expect from me for the first time.

This is both terrifying and elating all at the same time. I hope the flames burning around me keep me warm on the cold nights ahead. The only thing I know is all signs point to being at the beginning of the process… I’ve got a long way to go before I am me.

Let’s go!