Leaving Me at Night

  stop leaving me every night i close my eyes and watch you walk away from me with someone new your voice is unwavering when it tells me ‘i have moved on’ this is tormenting me torturing me it pulls … Continue reading

1.

I finally understand. Why I’ve been running all this time, chasing the high. Fighting for freedom. Not wanting to die, but hoping I would.

It’s all coming together now. You stole something from me. Everything. And as you hoped, I blocked it out. Remnants remained, giving me nightmares and an uncontrollable fear, but my brain allowed the memories to disappear.

Last night, I drank a bottle of cough syrup. I have just started counseling. I was going to be alone today, while two men cleaned our vents. I drank a bottle of cough syrup, and I didn’t understand why.

… you. You are why.

The gates are opening. I am the little girl again. I am feeling all of the sensations. And now I know why I have done what I have done in my life. The failures, the drugs, the drinking, the pain, the anguish, the lies, the cheating, it was all to run away from you. As long as I kept fucking up, the attention would stay on that instead of what you did to me.

I made a choice to start counseling again. And I knew that this was probably going to happen … but I also didn’t know how it was going to feel. The fear, the trembling, the running to the bottle of cough syrup … I have to believe it now. I have to say that you

.

..

….

you did something very bad to me as a little girl. A lonely girl. A sad girl.

I guess right now, that’s all I can really say.

I guess this is the beginning.

And I Felt

Haunt my thoughts
my dreams
my heart
my soul
Until the very blood in my veins
drips with darkness.

Suffocated in times past
I cannot run
I cannot hide
I cannot hold my breath
It is there
always there
my foe
my closest friend.

Antagonizing
agonizing
sorrow
Though I no longer cave to the thoughts of ending my own life,
I now fear that
my
thoughts
my
memories
are killing me.

Thankful.

I will not deny it, things haven’t been so easy as of late. I seem to have slipped into some kind of comfortable sadness; some form of loving loneliness. This is how things used to be, not how they should be now. But … Continue reading

Panic Attack

It starts with a tingle, a slight burn in my stomach, and twinge of confusion in my head. And I know that the panic is going to surface, and I know that I am going to lose all fucking control, and I know that I cannot stop it. So I brace myself. I hold on for dear life and hope that this time I won’t cut myself or try to kill myself or hit or throw things or yell or scream. I hope that this time, I will just curl into a ball and take the beating silently.

I can’t breath. I can’t breathe. One cannot live without breathing, and I cannot breathe.

I desperately pull at my hair, pick at my skin. The tears come, the silent screams, I am bawling now. I say “I can’t do this again,” like I am a prisoner about to be tortured once more.

“Try your anxiety management techniques,” my shrink says.

This is too far past that. I lose all control. I become an insane person, I lose touch with all parts of my sanity. This is not on the same planet as manageable anxiety.

So I go to the doctor. And I bawl on the table, making my husband do most of the talking. I don’t ever stand up for myself, but at this point, I need her help. I never ask for medication, in fact, I told my counselor that I didn’t want nor need it. But things have changed.

“I need something to help me,” I cry.

“Are you going to hurt yourself or someone else? Are you thinking of suicide?”

Am I going to tell her? “Well…” I start, not sure how much to divulge, “When it gets really bad, sometimes I think about, maybe, possibly, doing something … but I mean, I don’t want to.”

“Well, it looks like there isn’t anything I can give you that would be of use to you. Try a crisis clinic if things get bad.”

And I look at her. And a million shards of glass pierce my heart. That is the problem here with society.

This post made a lot more sense when I was writing it in my head, on the drive home. I was supposed to go to the dentist today, but instead I was falling  apart in the car and had to cancel. I’m just tired. I’m tired.

Abnormal Depression, In This Ordinary World

What has happened to it all? Crazy, some are saying. Where is the life that I recognize? Gone away. But I won’t cry for yesterday, there’s an ordinary world, somehow I have to find. And as I try to make … Continue reading

Fix Me, Dr.

I started counseling again yesterday. I don’t know what I expect to gain here, as my insurance only covers 12 sessions, but I knew that I needed to try. She told me that she wanted me to write down some … Continue reading

An Old Journal Entry

As my husband and I were finishing our packing, I found an old journal. It is full of scribbles and screams; it is the dark window into my once aching soul. I sat on my couch, and read through the old … Continue reading