Monthly Archives: May 2012

How can I be okay

A friend committed suicide last night. I’m not okay. How can I possibly be okay. The partner of a dear friend. Is now gone. How is this even possible. How. Young. Talented. Kind. Gone.

No.

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Words from inside

Falling screaming crying waking nightmare hissing loudly numbing falling falling hitting missing passion acceptance why no depression pressure pushing careless why no happy singing angry fighting talking moaning hiding falling falling daily waking breathing moaning waiting seeking yearning dreaming why no hitting missing wasting wanting clouds evaporating running crying screaming screaming waiting knowing creating leaving tearful fearful lost alone aching burning seeking pulling burning churning blowing blinding stopping going winding moaning sickening sad lost gone pulling grasping reaching seeking longing waiting smiling anger hurting heavy wading under drowning tears forgotten wailing walking numbing corpse long forgotten

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Who What Why Where

Who Am I
Am I real?
Was I once here?
Where did I go

Who Am I
A part of a whole?
A sum of my parts?
I wish I could know

What Am I
To others and to myself
Just a shadow perhaps
Putting on a good show

Why is it
That this world is too much
For some to bear
How is this at all fair

I look inside
But I am not there
Perhaps I’m nowhere

Once someone is gone
Does their soul just live on
In our own despair?

Where is she now
I want to know how
She is no longer there

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Hands

I try to come up for air
But I cannot.
Hands are clutching at me,
Grasping at me,
Pulling me back under.
I kick at them and
pry their fingers away
Yet they still come.
Clawing at me,
Killing me,
One clinging hand at a time.

I try to shout, GET AWAY
But instead water fills
my already compromised lungs,
and only a muted gurgle comes out.

The top, it’s so close,
The air, it’s so near
I can feel it
I can taste it
I am almost there

Then my mind is wrenched back to the hands
Grasping and pulling and drawing me down
They think they are helping themselves
By clinging on
They are only hurting themselves
And me in the process
We are all going to die
Airless.
Breathless.

I am them and they are me
I cannot come up without them
They cannot drown without me
I with them
And them with me
Sinking eternally

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Hypnosis: Green Light

As some of you may have read in my recent post about therapy, in our last session together, my therapist suggested trying hypnosis next session to try and access memories pertaining to a certain time period. Specifically, when I was around age 12 and 13. During that time, I was in an abusive relationship with an older guy. From fragments of memories I have, I know he was extremely abusive, both emotionally and sexually. However, I have very little memory of any of it. It’s all very fuzzy, and I only have two or three distant memories of interactions with him, even though this relationship went on for about two years.

Both my therapist and I feel this relationship played a significant role in my life, in the sense that it was very traumatic for me, and perhaps could be the source of much of the fear I carry.

Although at first I was very fearful of the idea of doing hypnosis to access these memories, I feel ready to go ahead and try it. And in fact, it feels like the next potential step in my healing. I think I needed to allow the fear to be there, to sit and express itself, to let its feelings be heard. After it did that, it released its hold on me. As a result, the fear is no longer dictating my decision about whether doing the hypnosis is the right decision or not.

I will definitely provide an update after the session describing how it went, whether or not it worked, and what it accomplished, if anything. Who knows, perhaps the memories aren’t there. Or perhaps I can’t access them. Or perhaps I can’t be hypnotized. But I’ll never know unless I try, right?

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A shattering of safety

*** trigger warning – violent acts depicted***

Just when my little shelter of a life feels safe, something comes along and shatters it. The reality is that this world is not safe. It is an illusion to think otherwise. There are cruel and evil people out there. How are we to pretend like we don’t know this, or that they do not walk amongst us. How do we do that? How do we push those knowledges aside. That danger lurks everywhere. How are we to ignore that. That men who desire to rape and kill and torture exist in every facet of society. How are we to overlook this fact. How are we, as women, to ever feel safe walking at night knowing these people exist.

Right now I wish I didn’t exist. Then I wouldn’t have to live in constant fear of threat. It is not an imagined threat. It is a very real threat. Something awful happened to a friend of mine and I just found out about it tonight. She was almost murdered at the hands of a sick sick man. She was chocked, dragged, and suffocated. She lost consciousness three times with this man’s hands around her neck trying to strangle her. She is lucky to be alive. She fought back. She fought back hard. I can’t say that if that happened to me that I’d be so lucky.

They haven’t caught the bastard.

Why do these sorts of things happen. Because there are sick sick people in this world. It just makes this world that much less livable. That much less bearable.

I can’t think about this anymore tonight. My brain is shutting down.

Where is safety in this world. Nowhere.

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Not okay

I’m not okay right now. I couldn’t think of anything else to do so I thought I would write a blog post.

I am barely able to function. I cannot speak. I spent the entire morning – literally from 7am until 1pm – in two different mental health facilities and a pharmacy and I still am without a prescription for my psych meds. After spending an hour waiting in the pharmacy for my prescription to be filled, they then told me that they never received a fax from the clinic. Right. Thanks.

I am supposed to be up in the mountains right now with my partner. But instead, I’m sitting in my tiny little office unable to speak or interact with the world. I even did the crazy thing of calling my therapist on her cell phone, which she made clear is for emergencies only. Of course I hung up when the voicemail came on. I’m not sure what I was expecting.

I told my partner that I didn’t want to go (away) anymore. She, being the amazing person she is, said that’s fine, that we can do whatever I want. She has been looking forward to this for weeks. Her job is uber stressful and she really needs a break from the city. Who am I to deprive her of that.

I don’t know what it was, perhaps just having to sit there in that godawful waiting room for almost four hours surrounded by a roomful of severely depressed patients, I don’t know but something made me break. I told myself on the way home that I couldn’t do it, and asked inside for help. I got a little bit of relief, in the form of a voice reassuring me that everything’s going to be okay, everything’s going to work out fine, etc etc. And that surprisingly calmed me down.

Until I got home.

Now I’m a mess. I can’t speak to my partner… My senses are in overwhelm mode. I can’t have any stimulation. My partner tried offering me part of a banana (I haven’t eaten since 6:30 this morning) and walked over and reached it out toward me. I screamed at her to leave it for me and I would get it. I couldn’t even handle her handing me something and me taking it from her. That physical interaction would be too much for my nervous system to handle.

She hasn’t eaten either. She’s been waiting for me because we were going to grab food on our way out of town. What is wrong with me. Why can’t I snap myself out of this.

I feel like I can’t do anything. Can’t move. Can’t speak. I should be packing. Or doing something. Even if it’s telling my partner she should just fix something to eat for herself here at home.

Why can’t I just be a normal person who can come home and pack and leave for my trip. Okay yes I had an extremely stressful morning but why can’t I shake it off and get on with my day. I’m trapped in the stress and overwhelm of this morning and it’s keeping me locked inside its prison cell and it’s preventing me from my life. I know what I want to do, I just can’t do it.

I’ve been sitting here trying to relax and calm myself by listening to the wind and the birds and trying to breathe. It’s not helping. At all.

Sometimes I hate the hold that trauma has on me. HATE IT.

Can someone please hit me upside the head real good with a frying pan? And snap me the hell out of this state. Uggh.

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