I’m Having a Really Good Day. How am I POSSIBLY Going to Manage?

As a writer, I tend to write about pain and heartache more than happiness and good things.  I do this because writing about those things is cathartic and also because they are the feelings that are most intense and most easily accessible to me.   I can tap into that part of me very, very easily.  In fact, I find it difficult at times to be as creative when things are going very well.  

 I also find myself resisting good things and/or having an innate refusal to let the bad go and just “be” in the moment and accept the good and happy feelings for what they are without a curtain of dread hanging in the background. 

 Today I forgot to do that. I forgot to carry my dread with me.  Perhaps I didn’t grab the right handbag.

 Thing is, I’ve had a damn rough time this week, but it is getting better.  

 As weak as it makes me feel to acknowledge it, whenever there is a significant anniversary or reminder of some awful thing that happened in my past, I change.  I get anxious, overwhelmed and easily stressed.  I have more nightmares and my heart starts to ache and it feels physically heavy in my chest.  I feel nauseous.  Certain smells are intolerable to me.  It feels like some sort of Incredible Hulk-type transformation that is fierce, powerful and unstoppable.  And even though I feel it happening; I feel myself spinning out of control, I have not yet learned how to manage it or stop it before it gets very bad. 

 I feel physically exhausted, yet I am unable to sleep.  I lose my appetite almost completely.  And I cannot seem to force myself to ‘snap out of it’.  It is as if I am physically ill.  When it does happen, I withdraw from those around me.  I can’t stand to have people see me this way.  To see me at my weakest.

 It’s complete and utter bullshit is what it is.  Quite frankly.

I entered into a new relationship this past year and that has proven to have its own set of challenges.  The biggest of which seems to be learning how to accept being treated well.   I don’t think this is supposed to be a learned behavior.  I think we should expect to be treated well and be surprised when we are not. 

As a survivor, I am used to being ‘on defense’ all the time.  Protecting myself against possible danger rather than going through life open to possibilities, being afraid of those around me rather than assuming most if not all of my encounters are going to be positive and good.  I have to learn how to live again.  I have to learn to ALLOW myself to live again.  

I have to tell myself that just because someone tried to take my life, doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to be here.  To live.  Just because he made me believe I am a worthless piece of shit, doesn’t mean I am.  He was.  HIM.  Not me. 

I’m actually pretty great.

A few days ago, I had reached the end of my rope.  My lack of sleep and my stress levels were making it very difficult for me to manage at work.  I almost had a complete breakdown in front of my boss.  THAT is not acceptable.  Period.  I cannot afford to let this bullshit affect my job.

Right about the moment I was about to completely lose it, I received a flower delivery from the man I love.  Which means he was thinking of me.  At the exact moment I felt like I was falling apart, I received something that ridiculously brightened my day and reminded me that I was loved, that I was being thought of, and that there is someone out there who treats me well.  

He came to see me that evening and it really made things so much better.  I devoured his attention and his affection for the better part of the night.  Just being in proximity to the one I love was so amazingly perfect for me.  It was like putting a soothing balm on the burn. 

I didn’t enter into this relationship thinking of it as medicinal.  Nor is it about being co-dependent.  It is about me learning how to be treated right, learning how to feel happy and being okay with it.  Sharing the weakest part of myself with someone and trusting that he will take good care of my heart and not use my weaknesses against me.

It has also been about me learning how to love someone again and give freely of myself without being resentful and without expecting that person to take, and take, and take, until I have nothing left.   It’s a process, and I am not all the way there yet, but I’m working on it.

I got a very good night’s sleep last night and woke up far more refreshed than I have been in a few weeks.  Today has been a pretty good day.  And, instead of feeling like this good feeling is going to be taken away at any moment, I find myself thinking ahead to how much better things can get; And it has been a very, very long time since I’ve allowed myself to do that. 

To hope.

It feels pretty damn good. 

 

Heaven

[This is just a very light, fun piece I wrote back in 2008 when I hosted a poetry collaboration.  The theme I chose for our writers was music because I love music almost as much as I love writing.  This piece was written in honor of my favorite guitarist, Joe Satriani.]

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Heaven

 

Fast fluidity

Effortlessly

Your fingers slay

The frets

The strings submit

To your gifted touch

Watching you play

An art form

With ease

You please

My senses

My body sways

Involuntarily moving

To the rhythm so soothing

The sound liquid

Passionate, feral

To watch you play

Is nothing short of….

Heaven

Whore

[This is something I wrote back in 2008.  It was part of a poetry challenge in which we were instructed to select one line from the host’s poem and rework it into a completely new piece.  The line I chose was “desires once loved in private” and this is what I did with it.]

Whore

She paints the red smile upon her face
Mirror reflecting outer beauty
The hideousness remains
Unrevealed
Concealed

Desires once loved in private
Now a means to an end
Shot of liquor; then another
Warms her body
Numbs her mind

Memories of countless men
Dank smells
Dirty corridors
Desperate scores
Left behind

Knock at the door
Nervous john
Balding, paunchy
Sour breath, raunchy
Sex his vice, he pays the price

Monetary transaction complete
He pushes her down
To her knees
False moans
Mechanical fellatio

Make him believe
He owns her body
Yes, for a time
But her spirit already dead
She hides in this bed

Doing the one thing
For which she was trained
The one thing
She’s good for
Such a good little whore

A Beauty is Born

The solitary flower, hidden in the dark

Alone, neglected

Tentatively reaches out

For a ray of sunshine,

A drink of water

This flower maintains its outward appearance

Inside wilted, dry, thirsty

Her most beautiful petals

Have yet to bloom

Her slow death begins

Then, miraculously, a ray of sunshine

Breaks through

Bathing the flower in warmth and light

Much needed rains shower down

The flower, overwhelmed, begins to drown

Just before she concedes to her fate

A petal blooms;

Pink, perfect

Awaiting the hand of a skilled gardener

Under whom she will surely blossom

Tender hands pluck away the dry, wilted leaves

They fall to the ground with a gentle crackling sound

Making room for new growth

New roots take hold

A beauty is born

All She Needs is Love

The thing with the girl who has been to Hell and back, is that she doesn’t need to be fixed.

She doesn’t expect to be understood.

She needs only to be reassured, comforted and loved.  Genuinely loved.

The kind of love she can feel in your presence and your absence.  A constant.

She has trouble with the concept of object permanence.

The girl has anxiety about everything.  From the “little” things to the very, very “important” things.  When she is overwhelmed, she has a very hard time distinguishing what is most important from what isn’t important at all.  Therefore, she assigns everything equal time in her head.  Nevermind the limited space, she will find a way to put it all in there.  Sometimes it gets jumbled.  Sometimes it starts to tumble out and, in those times, she cries in frustration and she then attempts to push it all back in.

It is exhausting.  Some days, just the act of living and breathing, of ‘blending in’ with the ‘normal’ people is …. exhausting.

She is overly critical of herself and others.  She expects a lot from those around her. She tends to expect more than she knows others can provide.  Perhaps she sets them up for failure, so they fail her sooner, rather than later.  She doesn’t know.

Sometimes her expectations seem reasonable and, when those expectations are not met she is confused and frustrated.

She gets irritated easily but she can’t seem to help it.  She needs more calm moments in her life.  When you poke at her on purpose, it hurts her feelings.  When she says “stop” she means it.

She has been let down more times than not in her life and that is “normal” for her.  People keeping promises and being dependable are the exception to the rule.    To assume everything will always go smoothly, to not prepare for the worst, has been a mistake for her. A very big mistake.

She is the only person she can rely on 100% of the time.  To believe otherwise is unfathomable to her.

In her mind, eternal optimists are fools.  Don’t they know they aren’t safe?  Don’t they know how bad it can get?

She is expected to maintain an appearance of normalcy and competency in her day-to-day life.  People are dependant upon her and she doesn’t generally let them down.  In fact, rising to demands is her forte.  She is labeled “high-functioning”.

Let downs are painful.  She will meet any expectation placed upon her because, being given direction, expectation and clear guidelines are her lifeblood.  She feeds on clear, concise demands, desires, wants, needs.   She will meet ridiculous expectations placed upon her, just to show you she can.

She is an emotional masochist who wants to be free of it.

Not knowing what is expected of her sends her into a tailspin of uncertainty.  She doesn’t do well with change.  She is like a child in that way.

She stopped growing emotionally at around 8 years old, the first time her first abuser  touched her sexually and then forced her to do things that she didn’t understand.  She was ‘rewarded’ for doing those things.

She learned to equate sex with love, affection and special treatment; As well as fear, captivity, and helplessness.

The world has been a confusing and scary place ever since.

She seeks guidance.

Indecisive people make her uncomfortable and anxious.  Being left to make all of the decisions in any relationship (co-worker, friendship, intimate relationship) makes her feel overwhelmed, resentful and parental.

She wishes she could let go of the wheel and let you drive for a little while. But then she is terrified you will crash … and hurt her.  She doesn’t know how to let go.

Routines are comforting and nurturing for her.  There have been far too many unexpected and chaotic events in her life.  She yearns for routine.  Unexpected changes in plans (even ‘pleasant’ ones) cause her to panic.  She does not know why.

She withdraws.  Not as much as she did when she was with the Sadistic Bastard, but, she does.  She dissociates.  When things become too much, she goes somewhere.  She doesn’t know where she goes.  She doesn’t remember.  She knows this isn’t ‘normal’.

She almost died one day.  When Sadistic Bastard wouldn’t let her go.  If he couldn’t have her, then nobody could.  When she thinks of it, she wants something to do with her hands, her mind, her body.  She wants to escape.  She would give anything to take away the vision of him doing those terrible things to her.  But there is no escape.  The visions follow her everywhere.  They disturb her sleep.

She wants to smoke, drink, use, fuck.

Escape.

She is resentful of her sense of responsibility.   At times, she fantasizes about giving it all away.

The fact that her constant worry/anxiety is irrational is completely irrelevant.  She knows it is irrational.  Telling her so will only make her angry.  If she could help it, she wouldn’t be this way, but she can’t.  You either accept her this way, or you don’t.  She cannot force herself to be someone she is not.

The protective measures she has taken for the entirety of her life have culiminated in this…this beautiful mess of a woman/child who only desires to be loved, if not understood.

Just loved as she is.

She needs to be comforted, yet she doesn’t know how to ask for it.

She is deeply injured, flawed and afraid.

She needs you to be perceptive to her needs.  She needs you to assume she needs you, not that she is pushing you away.  To drop your defensiveness and give her your warmth.

She resents her neediness.

She must be reassured often that she will not be abused or abandoned.

Absent that, all of her relationships will eventually suffer and die.

Someday, her smile will come back and stay.  She will be herself again.  She DESIRES to be herself again.  The one whose burning passion and fire he extinguished.  That part of her that died.  She must be reborn.

Until then, she needs patience, love, and nurturing.

A hand, a heart, a hug.

Love.

Love, most of all.

Lost Soul

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The hungry creature lies in wait

Inside my twisted soul

Lies, distrust, dishonesty

Once love, there’s now a hole

From this cavernous emptiness

Once full of peace and trust

Comes the Creature ravenous

None left, save for a crust

The Creature strives to reach this piece

Of love left in my soul

I struggle to hold onto it

The fight, it takes its toll

Much easier to let the Beast

Have his way inside

The scrap of love is not enough

To keep my soul alive

Lie back I feel him enter me

I just give up the fight

And as the Beast moves through me now

I scream with all my might

His rancid touch dissolves the love

My soul now black as night

I’m free from feeling, love and trust

My heart closed oh so tight

My angel, where are you now?

My God, you’ve let me down

There’s no one left to hold me up

There’s no one else around

Collapse, exhaustion now sets in

Ravaged outside, in

Sacrificial lamb, I weep

Drowning in his sin

Soft Fornication

Image

Fingertips

Swaying hips

I watch her moisten

Her soft pink lips

Forbidden need

She looks at me

Such wanton desire

Alluringly

She drinks me in completely

Magnetic attraction

I feel her pull

Driving me to distraction

Lips parting

This desire never ending

The warmth of her body

This is just the beginning

I inhale her essence

Jasmine, soft flower

There’s no time for pretense

She has taken my power

She tastes my warm sweetness

Soft, drowning in bliss

I return the favor

This illicit kiss

Open the floodgates

Rivers overflow

We drown in lust

As our heated bodies glow

Girl upon girl

Dizzying passion

Release of desire

Soft fornication

Forever

Under shadow of night

My breath you did take

Awoken from my restless slumber

You wrapped yourself around me

Giving me that which I sought

Unconditional love

Protection

Safety

We were two wanderers, lost

Alone

Secretly wishing to be one

Our hearts now entwined

I am yours

You, mine

Lusting lips

Swaying hips

A cry in the night

Sweet passion

This gift we exchange, priceless

With no limitations

Take me

As I sing for you

A love song of surrender

Here

Where time and space collide

Explosions of truth erupt

And my eyes

Cry

An ocean of emotion

No longer a want

But a necessary union

I dine at your table

You shelter me in your arms

And clothe me with eternal love

Forever

The End?

(This is a writing that may prove to be uncomfortable to read, but sometimes inspiration isn’t pleasant.  I wrote this a few years ago, during a dark moment in time.  I should say, it wrote itself, because it took only a moment from start to finish)

Sometimes

Sweet wine

Sings a tune

So divine

~

Forget what beats

Within your chest

Forget your life

Contemplate death

~

Smile in consideration

What some find grim

Stand on the riverbank

Know you can’t swim

~

Bite your lip hard

Thoughts so wrong

Won’t be missed

When you’re long gone

~

Laughter comes now

Life you did wrong

Sleeping at the wheel

What was going on?

~

Didn’t see the truck

Before it was too late

Forced to feel alive again

Then forced to wait

~

Confusion sets in

Love? I wouldn’t know

Only know I’m falling

Into an endless black hole

~

When I cause pain

The world comes to a halt

Stinging wounds boomerang

Taste of wet salt

~

Imaginary arms

Hold me so tight

Kisses in my dreams

Make everything right

~

Placing my happiness

In care of someone else

Fatal flaw I truly know

But this I can’t help

~

Smashed hopes and dreams

Shatter to the floor

I pick up the pieces

I feel the need to score

~

Fractured bits in my hand

Sharp enough to cut

I press them to me gently

I just don’t have the guts

~

Can’t stand my reflection

I turn away in pain

Thought I knew the answers

The questions still remain

~

Just one more day

Tomorrow new hope?

I step away from the ledge

I put down the rope

~

Waves of bitter pain

Drowning in my glass

Soon I’ll have the answers

To the test I haven’t passed

~

Get it all together

Learn how to live

Feel it all, don’t hide

Remember what she did

~

Someone’s looking out for me

This I truly know

Heavy heart still beating

Not my time to go

~

Fold my hands in prayer

A rarity it’s true

When I’ve nowhere else to turn

I’m forced to turn to You

Hunger

Standing in the open, empty field,

The young girl takes in her surroundings

Seeing no one around her.

Just wildflowers in full bloom;

Long grasses, swaying in the gentle breeze.

She strips herself of her protective clothing.

Feeling freedom like she’s never known,

She twirls around, giddy; excited.

A child-like wonder wraps around her.

This moment frozen in time.

True happiness, a feeling she never thought possible.

Suddenly, she feels a hungry gaze upon her.

Chills run down her spine.

She looks around anxiously;

It is then that she sees him.

Her eyes catch those of the hungry wolf

Crouched behind the tall oak tree.

He takes one step toward her, then another,

Steely gaze fixed upon her delicate flesh.

He growls, menacingly, licking his chops in anticipation.

His nose quivers as he picks up her scent.

She gazes back at the beast in wonderment,

Trembling with…fear?

Suddenly, somehow, she can sense the creature’s true nature;

The anger in his eyes, the menacing growl, mask his pain.

Intrigued, she takes a tentative step forward.

She reaches out with a trembling hand.

The wolf licks her palm hungrily, nibbles her delicate fingers.

She kneels before him, opening her arms.

The creature nuzzles her neck, his cold nose tickling her skin.

A brief whine escapes his throat, and then he begins to howl.

It is at this moment that she realizes he is starving

For love, affection, warmth. A companion.

She vows to stay by his side.

His every want and need will be met.

They form an unbreakable bond, this girl and beast;

He becomes her protector, and she his constant companion,

His nurturer.

He hungers no more.