Tag: fear

The Heart of an Empath

My wounds are such, that when I see them reflected in you, my response is one to want to heal you. To shelter you and let you know there is better.

My desire for connection and the mutual exploration of the deep does not fit.

I am to be taken in doses, as I see I am too much, or is it not enough?

I am told my need to help is not normal, by some even unwelcome- no matter the intent.

Do we not all have the desire to help each other? To care for and nourish each other?

To bathe the wounds in kindness, love and acceptance?

I do not understand why I don’t fit here.

It’s coming….. pre birthday thoughts

Have you ever been nervous? Not that little bit of jittery catch my breath kind of nervous, but the kind that parallels anxiety so deeply you don’t know if you’re experiencing exhilaration or just an abject ripping apart of your heart and soul.

Every year as my birthday rolls around, this seems to be the overwhelming feeling growing as each year passes.

I try to distract myself with people, places, activities.

But Covid has seen to the fact that I don’t have my distractions, the shut down not only of the world at large, but of peoples minds and hearts because they’re overwhelmed, can at times make it feel like I’m adrift calling out to empty echoes.

I don’t say this for pity, I say this is fact. We are all on survival and I am not special.

Most think that each birthday I have lived should be a victory lap, for the cycles I have tried to break, for making it to an age that I hadn’t really pictured.

I do see each year as a gift, a gift of time with my family, a gift of time to be able to have purpose in the world, to do good things, to help people as best as I can.

But this year, this godforsaken year has been so hard. So many right things to be trying to do, Politic, health and relationship building. Trying to adapt and adjust my own career to what comes next, what I’ll find fulfillment with, where I’ll find my spark.

And today as I sit and look out at the blue sky, and try to fill the landscape of my day with something to make my heart happy, all I can really feel is exhaustion with the underlying electric current of nervousness.

I’m not sure what comes next, I really don’t think anybody is. I just don’t want to lose my drive to get there. Give in to the pain my body feels as I’m trying to coax it to strength and flexibility. Give in to the high anxiety I have been battling. To keep to the positive things I’m trying to do. Who do I want to be, where will I be and who will be with me, this next turn of the wheel? The dogs that are my coffee dates this morning hold no answers.

These are the thoughts I have over coffee before my day begins, I will go to nature, I will touch the ground, I will be thankful for what I have, and remind myself of the joy of curiosity of what’s to come.

Your Prison

It’s ok.

Vulnerability is hard, but I don’t judge you for it.

I don’t judge you for not knowing. For finding it so difficult.

Your tears don’t frighten me.

Your fears don’t frighten me.

I see your overwhelmed humanness

I never had any other expectations- you had already placed so many upon yourself.

I can not fix it for you. But I will be here while you try. A hand to hold, a shoulder to lean, an ear to listen and a heart full of compassion to rest in.

The walls you built to hold you up imprison you with your demons. You have made it hard to reach you, the noise so deafening you can not hear. The frustration of self so loud you think the sound is outside your head and coming from my lips.

If you looked in my eyes, the reflection of you that you would see is one of gentleness, kindness, love

Not the unworthy monster you believe is lurking.

Yet- you think I must lie. How can I see your strength, your beauty, your worth? You demonstrated it over and over to those around, but forgotten to save a bit of light for yourself.

The light you gave me to hold once, when my own battle became so dark I could not see, is a treasure I wish to return to you, to light your way. But you can not see enough to take it.

My heart aches watching you battle. Seeing your wounds erupt from within. I can not love you enough to fill the holes you keep tearing. How can you believe your grace is poison?

How can you believe you are not loved?

I ask the Gods to help you, to hear you, to guide you through. I’ll always be here, when you release yourself from the dark.

Shame

Shame perverts everything we do.

Why? What do we have to feel shamed about? Emotions? Needs? The flesh that carries us? The mind that creates? Our desires? Fears? Our successes? Failures? Our mistakes? Our vulnerability? Our kindnesses?

The shame we carry can make us closed, cruel, judgmental – indifferent to expressions of gratitude, love, caring, joy.

It divides us.

We push it off on others, not acknowledging it is our own burden we carry. We believe that love, compassion and understanding are not for us. We are not worthy.

There is so much I want to write- so much I want to express. I just want to roar

FUCK YOU

I don’t want this any more.

Fuck you to anyone who has ever made you feel lesser than.

I will not be shamed for my vulnerability

I will not be shamed for my caring

I will not be shamed for my body

I will not be shamed for my willingness to try

I will not be shamed for my past

I will not be shamed for who I am

I will not be shamed for the love I give

I will not be shamed for trying to heal

I will not be shamed for my truth

I will not be shamed for asking for help

I will not be shamed for offering help

You can try,

by your words

your actions

your silence

to tear me down

to your level

Here I will not stay

You can keep your judgements

You can keep you helpful arrows

You can keep your cloak of shame

I will shed mine and rise above

Children Today

Torture to see pain and fear in your child’s eyes

How do we explain the world? The lack of empathy. The constant fear drum being beat relentlessly.

Wanting to say everything will be alright, feeling the words dry up on your tongue because you don’t know. Never make promises you can’t keep.

Her heart is heavy. Mine is breaking.

I hold her, wipe away the tears, fighting back my own.

Hope, hope, find it, enough to share. I can not bare one more thing.

Until I have to.

Tell her ‘bout the wheel, how it will turn. It won’t stay like this forever. It can’t.

A piece of childhood shattered. Another bit lost.

I must be her port. Hold steady despite my fear.

A Guided Tour of My Anxiety Attack

You work

You dive deep

You build and use your tools

You try to be accountable

Sometimes it’s little. A tightness in the chest. A tremor in the hand. Floating thoughts in tired chaos.

You work

It starts with a flutter deep in the belly. Temper becoming short as you try to hold on to the steady.

You try to be accountable.

Take a day to rest. The quiet makes the deep exhaustion deafening. Dive deep, use your tools.

The flutter grabs hold with claws and the world begins to roil. Coherent thoughts are just out of reach.

Sleep. Try to reset. Hold on to me so I don’t get carried away.

Middle of the night- clammy, claws have worked their way to the chest. Monsters screaming so loud, pulling my knees in, hands over my ears, trying pointlessly to keep out the screaming that’s inside.

Apologies tumbling from my lips, washed away by the downpour of tears. Shaking so hard, my seams threatening to tear.

Sometimes there’s a why. This time there is not a single, but fragments of everything. Real, imagined and all in between. A single why can be rationalized. The shame, I can’t get through the fragments cutting me from inside.

Shame and anger, gains feel lost.

Breathe.

Fucking breathe. Meet the monsters with compassion.

I don’t live here anymore. This once was the home in my head always. But not now.

No anger for the rushing back.

Compassion for the now.

I am human. I have cracks but I am not broken. Lean against the steady.

Breathe, held in place

Arms guiding me back to now. Keep breathing.

There will be fog. Use the tools. Medicine to dull the edge. Know that today you’ll struggle in the thick muck. One foot in front of the other.

Breath in, breath out.

The day will carry on.

You eventually will come to the other side, to begin again

You work

You dive deep

You build and use your tools

You try to be accountable

A Guided Tour of My Anxiety Attack

You work

You dive deep

You build and use your tools

You try to be accountable

Sometimes it’s little. A tightness in the chest. A tremor in the hand. Floating thoughts in tired chaos.

You work

It starts with a flutter deep in the belly. Temper becoming short as you try to hold on to the steady.

You try to be accountable.

Take a day to rest. The quiet makes the deep exhaustion deafening. Dive deep, use your tools.

The flutter grabs hold with claws and the world begins to roil. Coherent thoughts are just out of reach.

Sleep. Try to reset. Hold on to me so I don’t get carried away.

Middle of the night- clammy, claws have worked their way to the chest. Monsters screaming so loud, pulling my knees in, hands over my ears, trying pointlessly to keep out the screaming that’s inside.

Apologies tumbling from my lips, washed away by the downpour of tears. Shaking so hard, my seams threatening to tear.

Sometimes there’s a why. This time there is not a single, but fragments of everything. Real, imagined and all in between. A single why can be rationalized. The shame, I can’t get through the fragments cutting me from inside.

Shame and anger, gains feel lost.

Breathe.

Fucking breathe. Meet the monsters with compassion.

I don’t live here anymore. This once was the home in my head always. But not now.

No anger for the rushing back.

Compassion for the now.

I am human. I have cracks but I am not broken. Lean against the steady.

Breathe, held in place

Arms guiding me back to now. Keep breathing.

There will be fog. Use the tools. Medicine to dull the edge. Know that today you’ll struggle in the thick muck. One foot in front of the other.

Breath in, breath out.

The day will carry on.

You eventually will come to the other side, to begin again

You work

You dive deep

You build and use your tools

You try to be accountable

A Guided Tour of My Anxiety Attack

You work

You dive deep

You build and use your tools

You try to be accountable

Sometimes it’s little. A tightness in the chest. A tremor in the hand. Floating thoughts in tired chaos.

You work

It starts with a flutter deep in the belly. Temper becoming short as you try to hold on to the steady.

You try to be accountable.

Take a day to rest. The quiet makes the deep exhaustion deafening. Dive deep, use your tools.

The flutter grabs hold with claws and the world begins to roil. Coherent thoughts are just out of reach.

Sleep. Try to reset. Hold on to me so I don’t get carried away.

Middle of the night- clammy, claws have worked their way to the chest. Monsters screaming so loud, pulling my knees in, hands over my ears, trying pointlessly to keep out the screaming that’s inside.

Apologies tumbling from my lips, washed away by the downpour of tears. Shaking so hard, my seams threatening to tear.

Sometimes there’s a why. This time there is not a single, but fragments of everything. Real, imagined and all in between. A single why can be rationalized. The shame, I can’t get through the fragments cutting me from inside.

Shame and anger, gains feel lost.

Breathe.

Fucking breathe. Meet the monsters with compassion.

I don’t live here anymore. This once was the home in my head always. But not now.

No anger for the rushing back.

Compassion for the now.

I am human. I have cracks but I am not broken. Lean against the steady.

Breathe, held in place

Arms guiding me back to now. Keep breathing.

There will be fog. Use the tools. Medicine to dull the edge. Know that today you’ll struggle in the thick muck. One foot in front of the other.

Breath in, breath out.

The day will carry on.

You eventually will come to the other side, to begin again

You work

You dive deep

You build and use your tools

You try to be accountable