Tag: frustration

Waking in an Anxiety Attack

Wake up from a dead sleep

So many thoughts I can’t grasp one

No breath

Feeling I’m going to split apart

Gulping for air

Fear

The smallest I can go

Arms wrapped around my self

Knees tightly into chest

Nothing slows

The speed of every impulse rushing through

So fast it may just disappear

The fog of everything and nothing

Sickness rises

From a dream? From life?

Try to count

Try to focus

Try to pray

Lose track of the mantra I cling to, to tie me down

Muscles armour, the shell protecting the insides from coming out

Smaller still

Jaw so tightly clenched, small moans escape

Inside the skull deafening screams fill the void

In the darkness I wait for the light to return

Opaque

Where does this empty come from?

What am I looking for?

Maybe… it’s nothing? But it feels like everything

Why is the validation so needed- to prove I am here? I exist? I made a difference.

I imagine this is what a ghost feels like

A neat anomaly- presence sometimes detected

Rarely seen

Rarely heard

Do they go on day to day? Doing their ghostly things to keep them busy. Hoping for relief from the empty where they are stuck. Do they hang around to see if their existence made a difference? Do they feel the same there as they did in life?

Maybe I am a ghost. Doing ghostly things. Sometimes being heard by those who are sometimes sensitive- sometimes being seen when it’s time for parlour tricks.

Your Mirage No More

I open my mouth

The words come out

But they are not mine

Ask me my dreams

Then tell me what they are

Ask me who I am

Then tell me who it is

Clear my throat

Louder I try

Offence is taken

At my louder clarity

Do I frighten you?

Does my truth not fit?

I am not yours to create

You say I misinterpret

You say it is my fault

This crushes

But I’m learning to dig my feet in

And to keep clearing my throat

I open my mouth

Clear

It is your filter that is broken

I Am Not Ok

Today I broke.

It’s been along time coming, this is beyond the ‘ugly’ cry. This was pure unadulterated rage and disappointment.

Curled up in the corner of the tub, hot water running over me, mixing with the hot tears streaming down my face. The rhythm from the water providing a background to the guttural howl ripping through my throat

Today I can’t. Yet I have to.

Dangled carrot of some normality my brain is refusing, for fear of let down

Trying to reconcile how we treat each other vs the good game most of us talk

Crushed by the weight of constant uncertainty, distrust, disappointment

The chronic pain I thought I had a handle on, has been chipping away at my ability to do my self care, my life

Screaming into the void

Feeling like I’m saying the same thing over and over, on deafness it falls

Today wrap me in softness, sit with me, allow me to cry, allow me to rage, allow me to hurt and not feel guilty for it.

I’m not asking for a fix, I’m not wanting pity.

I’m not wanting to hear it will get better

I don’t want to hear how strong I am.

Today I’m asking to be heard, loved, validated as is. Because today I’m not ok.

15 Months

I see you.

It’s wearing on you. The things that have been emotionally and mentally pushing down on you are starting to seep out.

The mental exhaustion from not knowing from minute to minute what’s coming, what the right thing, the safe thing is to do.

The emotional weariness from bearing witness to the constant ignorance, violence and disconnect.

It is so full inside of you that you are numb, detached as a way of preservation.

Yet, there are dull headaches, your appetite is all over, sleep waivers between thick to nonexistent but no rest to be found. Restlessness but no drive.

And then the pain, this is a manifestation of the heart, soul and mind. Dull stiffness in the joints, a deep ache in the muscles, a sensitive tenderness woven into the skin.

Words can not replace soothing touch.

Electronics can not replace the energetic connections of being together. We are told ‘just a little longer’. Hollow sounds they’ve become

Some days are ok. Some days are hell.

I’m here with you. I see this. I feel this.

The Sixteenth Card

When do you call time?

Jam your hands and feet against the wall

Brace against the fall.

STOP

Enough now, it’s time.

From a distance what you’d have witness would be this.

A beautiful scene. Tall tower, blue sky-

The cracks began to show.

In a blink fire, explosion

The tower collapses

Ruble everywhere.

STOP

The destruction is done, no more

The air acrid with smoke- the tower has fallen

The sky blotted out, the tower is no more.

The landing was painful

I am not unscathed

There is blood, breaks, putrid wounds

Tears, fear, a heavy heart

STOP

Stillness, let it settle, let the pieces fall

Time to clean wounds, set the breaks

Wipe the soot from my eyes.

The lightening dark, clearing of smoke.

This hurts, but it’s purifying

Dissolve to ash.

STOP

Time to start again, from the elements

Air, Water, Fire, Earth,

Spirit

Weave together, first form the heart

Then breath.

Bone, nerve, muscle

Skin- sensation

Brain, thought, creative, memory

Ahh memory and wisdom

Those scars I’ll bear

BEGIN

Dark Dismantling

We all have something that we are terrified of. Something that we dread, that we push from our minds, that lays in wait in the dark places.

Sometimes it’s rational fears, sometimes it may appear to be irrational. Sometimes it’s a rational fear that has grown so large it can’t be contained to an ‘appropriate’ size.

I know I’m not the only one struggling. It’s getting harder to speak up because it seems there is no space. Everyone has something. We are all so starved to be heard, validated and soothed. Yet it seems there is very few to listen.

But here I sit in the predawn hours wrestling some of my very specific monsters.

Parts of my career are in flux.

The part where I do not work for myself has me shaken and insecure about my abilities due to ‘ratings on a score card’, the cold devalued feeling that my contributions are now subpar. The removal of any feeling of team. No human emotional considerations, conversations or care.

I wrestle with how my body is not able to tolerate the physical exertion of my career ( where I do work for myself in service of others) to the extent I used to be able to work.

I am still capable, but where my comfort number was 6 it’s now 3-4.

Constant pain to varying degrees.

This is coupled with trying to figure out other parts of my life, relationships with others and myself. I am turned inside out. My contents scattered. My identity wrapped in questions. The assurance I used to get from what I thought I knew, what I thought I was…… no longer valid. Detached

Is this the darkest part of the journey? ( at least until death?) and who is going to come out the other side? Who will shine the light during my dark dismantling?

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.

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.