healing

Life Support.

I’ve been sleeping with the lights on.

When you love somebody enough, they could never leave you. If you push, I’ll just pull you back in. Anything to bring you back to me. Illuminate this darkness I feel washing over me. Take away all this shame and desperation. I need this comfort in knowing after all this time, we could be fine. Through the storms that turn to hurricanes. I wish I could tell you that breathing gets easier after the fog fades. I wish I had all the words to say to make you come back, but all that is mystified illusions that never existed.

I spent a lifetime relying on people. The wrong people, the right people, what does it matter. They became a crutch that helped guide me through the unknown. I am fixated on the idea that these people are the only people that understand me. They’re perfect and untouchable, everything I wish I could be. Nothing can hurt us. Placed high on these pedestals, untouchable perfection. There are cracks in your armor. Cracks in the foundations from which you stand upon. Still I would break myself before you broke. I would patch up every crack in your armor. Anything to make you better, anything to make you love me.

There’s a method to my madness
It’s clear that you don’t have a clue

The cuts they heal. The bruises they fade. The words are nothing but a lingering memory I could never escape. False hope and sweet desperations. Exasperated expectations that would never come true. I am holding on to the last bit of string that connects us. The string keeps this illusion connected between us.  I can’t hold on any longer. I can’t keep pretending that it doesn’t hurt when it does. Pretending that my scabs can easily heal into scars. You were the deepest cut, the biggest bruise, and still I wanted everything then nothing from you.

This is my world, this is my choice
And you’re the drug that gets me through

All I have left is this string that connects us. I am ready to let go now.

03/12/2008

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9/10/2015 – Day Twenty – Four

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The weather has been changing. Before you know it, it’ll go from sunny days to overcasts skies. From summer skin to winter coats and layers. I hate the summer and it’s over exposure of skin, that I never feel comfortable showing. I am in no way a prude but my insecurities seem to make me more conservative. It’s a piece of myself I never like to show. Its this never ending process of learning to love your body, when you’re still in the process of accepting this skin.

I could lose all the weight and still feel self conscious of my skin, and the abnormalities of my body. I’ve watched my body go from big to medium to large again. I’ve watched my skin stretch and rest on different parts of my body. And all I’ve wanted is to cover up never show the world. Hide under layers of clothes to distract myself from what’s underneath. I wonder if I will ever get over this feeling. If being so body conscious changes over the years. They say it changes when you get older, but what if it doesn’t. I have to pretend to be comfortable and accepting, when I just want to rip my skin off. Take this image I see of myself that I know no one else can see, and pretend it doesn’t exist. I want to hide behind trees and behind overcast skies. Where shadows can mask my body and its abnormalities. We are praised for our bones and our skin that stretches over our skeletons. Sometimes when the weather changes you can’t help but remember this is a process. Bodies have this ability to change but I don’t feel like that.

I have become so comfortable with hiding at home and avoiding the outside world. Avoiding a million different emotions, in favor of hiding in this misery and self pity. It’s the heat that drives me crazy. That makes me believe I can’t be myself.  I can’t hide from the heat, I only expose myself more to keep from being hot. But in the cold, I hide behind layers of fabric to hide what I don’t love about myself.  I’ll never be perfect and I’ll never be pretty. I’ll be stuck under this skin that stretches for as long as I can see. One day I’ll be more accepting, but in this unforgiving heat, I can’t see myself pretending.

8/21/2015 – Day Ten.

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Life has been nonstop since the beginning of this trip. So much that at times I feel suffocated with the day to day activities. Some days my body can’t take it and other days I can’t help but force myself to solider on. I put my mask on better than everyone, but being so far from home doesn’t make sense, to force myself to be who I am at home. I rinse off the day and go on my way. Barefaced, hair a mess and pray no one notices me.

When you get older you stop caring about how you look to people. You reach a point where the only person you really care to impress, is yourself. After turning 30, you lose a sense of insecurity about appearance. What I used to care about in my 20’s, has completely disappeared in my 30’s. I have always been insecure about my weight and appearance but when you’re far from home, you really stop giving a shit. I don’t care what people think of me. I reached a point where the mirror holds two faces, Who I see and who I feel. Sometimes I don’t even know who I am anymore. When you face yourself without masks, without makeup, without any trace of your superficial self, you get a sense of who you really are. I am not my eyeliner or mascara or any of the thousands of creams I use on my face. At the same time, I am not the barefaced individual I see before me. You lose a sense of identity after years of hiding beneath masks, but at the same time you’re faced with the reality of how you really feel about yourself. As I inch closer into my 30’s I realize that every year I lose a layer of insecurity that I thought I needed before. I realize that going out of the house without makeup isn’t the end of the world, even if at times I felt as it was.

Lately I just want the rains to weigh me down and absorb into my skin. I want the water to match the streams that fall from my face. I want a lot of things. Mainly to slow down enough to truly enjoy the rain and not run from it. Running for cover to shield myself from the downpours. I want to breathe again and honestly feel the air rise and fall in my chest and into my lungs. I watch as the shell of my former self breaks down at what she used to love.  I feel my heart turn to glass and know that at any given moment it will break. When you are occupied with your surroundings you push everything you feel deeper inside of you. I wish I could put into words how it feels. The faster moments come, the sooner the come down. Slow down, relax, feel the weight of the rain on your skin. I just want to stand in silence in complete aw of this large city. Sit and watch the views. Watch as the sky clears.

Barefaced, hair a mess, and feeling fine.

In the lonely hour.

I lie awake between when the hours turn from PM to AM, thinking, wondering, pondering, inviting. All these thoughts in all their splendored glory. These images of reality mixed in with make believe. Heroes, saints, villains and sinners, everywhere and in-between. When you feel that hope has lost, you reach out for a connection. Reach out to feel something, anything from this wretched feeling that you have consumed yourself with. It aches in your soul straight through to your heart. From the moment you tap your fingertips against your chest, waiting for something to revive you from this feeling.

I need someone, That I’ll look to,
In the lonely hour, That we all go through

There are things you do when you’re lonely that you would never do with a sane mind. Your mind and judgement turn off, you roam the world as an insane person would. You enclose yourself to all this loneliness. Believing the wrong people, trusting the sinners, and knowing very well that every last bit of this is wrong. Its this hurt that is eating up your insides. This sickening pain that you want to drown out to feel whole again. You trust these people because you have nothing left to give. At any given moment, someone will come save your from yourself. Save you from these feelings that you’ve become so clouded with. These illusions that letting the right one in would be your salvation. Bring forth the one person that will save me from this loneliness. Bring forth the person that will in turn save me from myself.

I need someone, That I’ll look to,
In the lonely hour, I need you

All it takes is one person to save us from ourselves. One person to turn all the dark clouds into sunlight that illuminates our path to salvation. We all need a little help sometimes. One person to dry the tears and sweep us off our feet. We believe in words before we believe in actions. All it takes is 3 words and 8 letters to bring you back to life. 3 words and 8 letters to show that you mean something to someone. You could take everything away from my life. Take away all the material things. Take away all the glamour of this life. The only thing that I want in this life is someone to take away all this loneliness. All I need is you, not someone like you.

When there’s a wistful silence, In an empty room,
These other voice’s, They don’t cut through,
In the lonely hour, I need you

I’ve spent nights believing in this knight that would come and save me from myself. That would wipe away the tears from the lovers prior and erase all the scars from my own self destruction. I’ve waited and in return let these legions of broken people consume my time and affection. It’s not love because love wouldn’t hurt this much. Love wouldn’t allow this feeling to continue to last. I just need this pain to stop this hurt inside my heart. Stop this ache that I feel in my chest, deep down to my soul. I can’t keep reaching out to a person that doesn’t exist. Realizing that I don’t need anyone to save me from myself. I just need to rely on me. In this lonely hour, I can’t help myself. In the lonely hour, I need you.

I need you.

6/14/2011

Girl on Fire.

If you cut my wings, I’ll only bleed. I will stay close to the ground in the ashes of the fire, that you burn before me. You will break my heart but I will not be broken. You cannot break me. I will not be weak for your affection nor attention. I will not be defeated. I’ll bleed in the aftermath of the fire but I will not burn. I refuse to burn for your amusement. I’ll bleed through your battles but will win the war. I have been down this road too many times before. The rivers will bleed in the bloods of my sorrow but my strength will see me through.

So bright, she can burn your eyes, Better look the other way

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Do not mistake my kindness for weakness. I will cry, I will break, but I refuse to burn. It’s the ashes of the fires that will see me through. You cannot hurt me for I will rise above this. Your words are your fists to plummet me to the ground, but you will not come up victorious. You use your words to break me but I will not be broken. I will break to bleed but you will not cut my wings. You cannot hurt my wounded soul with the words of your grief and sorrow. You will not hurt me no more. I may be black and blue but you will not defeat me. I will not be defeated.

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I will watch the flames you throw at me burn, but I am untouchable. For the flames turn to ashes that I will rise above. Through the ashes I will see this through. I am not afraid of you. I dust the ashes from my skin and watch myself overcome these wounds. My cuts they bleed and scab but soon they heal. I am on the mend from this bloody mess that you put me through. You cannot clip my wings. You cannot hurt this wounded vessel that once burned for you. Black and blue and bleeding through. Fighting fire with fire will only burn you. You will not hurt me anymore. I bind you in your misery and misfortune, you will not touch me. I refuse to let you hurt me. It’s my wings that I use to fly far from you. From this mess, this hurt, this pain. I will not burn. I will bleed, I will scab, but I will not burn. Not for you. Not for anyone. If you cut my wings, I’ll only bleed but you cannot defeat me.

I will not be defeated.

She’s just a girl, and she’s on fire

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Would it make you feel better to watch me while I bleed?

Words have a way of suffocating you when you’re trying to breathe. Long after they have been said. They’re the ghosts that come back to haunt you, long after the guilty parties have left. You cling on to them, allow them to marinate inside of you and never let them go. You find yourself believing these things because that’s what you’ve taught yourself to believe. Bruises heal, cuts scar, but words have this long lasting effect that echo through you on the darkest of days.

Everyone says to forget them. Erase them from your mind. That part of your life is over and time to focus on the now. Every once in a while when things happen to hurt more than normal you go back to those words. Those words that make your heart break. Those words that remind you of bleeding and hurting, all over again. You give these words all the power to infest your insides with hatred and you can’t help but allow it to. No matter what you tell yourself its always in the back of your mind, “You’re not good enough, and you never will be”. You are your worst critic and no matter what you tell yourself during the day, it’s the nights that haunt you more than anything. It’s the nights that you are honest with yourself and you can’t help but pick yourself apart. You’re only doing what others have done before you. Nit pick at everything you do and making themselves superior from how you’re feeling. It doesn’t make them ugly, because you know how ugly of a person you already are. Its the same fight you have over and over with yourself. This devil and god continuing to rage inside of you and you can’t help but succumb to the darkness. You fight this battle every night and you tell yourself one day it will be over, one day it will all disappear.

I wish it was easy to forget. That believing people was easy as snapping your fingers. It’s not. While I sit here I just want to pick at the broken scabs and watch myself bleed. It’s what everyone else wants. They want this failure, this shell of a person that radiates black and blue. They want a vessel to point fingers at. How easy it would be to watch the blood drain from my veins just to make you feel better. How easy it was to say the words and never caring of the actions that came after it. It takes more than an empty apology to make things better. I have a jar of empty apologizes and my arms sore from every cut you gave me. I can’t breathe anymore. I can’t sleep, I can’t think, and I can’t help but replay every negative aspect of life people have thrown against me. You make me a victim but I can’t help but always feel like the villain. I am the bad guy, I am the one that’s always in the wrong. But I’m still the one bleeding for your amusement.

We bleed, we give up, then we rise again. It’s not easy being who everyone wants me to be. It’s not easy pretending that everything is fine. I am not fine, I am not even close to being okay. Some days are harder and some days just disappear.  I would have bled myself dry if that would make everyone happy. But I can’t. Instead I watch the cuts turn to scabs and the scab heal into scars. I can’t forget what has happened because the scar is there to remind me. To remind me of the bleeding, the hurt, and the pain of words that I can’t seem to rid from my mind. One day the ghost of the words will no longer haunt me. What a joyful feeling that would be. Until then I sit with my scars and continue to heal.

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7/2/2009

Need you like water in my lungs.

This story’s old but it goes on and on until we disappear.

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You feel it.

This silent disconnect from the world.  Floating in the sea and feeling the weight of the world pull you down into the ocean. Drowning yourself in the pain of your own sorrows. Lifeless with no will to fight anymore. The words that you’ve allowed to infect your soul just weighing you down one by one. Thinking of every memory of your past and watch it come apart in your present. Knowing better than the truth and watching yourself succumbing to it’s reality. The lies of someone else’s belief of the truth. The broken parts you can’t help but watch fall even further apart. Believing the same lies and beating yourself up from being fooled for the last time. Deep down you fall deeper in the ocean of these regrets. Knowing better but wishing things had been different. Words were once wishes and desires for something better. Clinging for hope in the mist of desperation. There was once something held so beautifully and now you watch it wash away the deeper you fall. Below the surface and deeper into the abyss. You become the dead weight that others so proudly called you. Lifeless and alone.

I spoke the words but never gave a thought to what they all could mean.

It’s harder to breathe. The venom filled garbage you tell yourself is what suffocates you. You lose the air that you once held so superior above everything else. Replacing it with every negative aspect of your life. The sorrow, the sadness, and at times even the madness. Asking for things to change and accepting the every ounce of the bullshit you feel. Everything inside of you just begging to be set free but no matter how many times you say the words you don’t believe them. The will you had to continue on has frozen inside and sunk below sea level. Trying desperately to grasp it and all you have left are water filled lungs and this emptiness inside. You go through the movements but still feel nothing. Setting your sails up for failure and watching yourself disappear towards the sea. The water is the only thing that will calm your bones. Calm the craziness of the storm that you hold inside of you. Suppressing the screams of madness you hide from the world.

Watching this storm throw your body off course. The rain merged with the tears and all you want is to succumb to it. Allowing the words to cut through you as the wind does. The storm falls short on your own sadness and the more you wish for yourself to wash up on the shore, you can’t. You fall deeper into the sea wishing to disappear. No one knows your sadness better than this storm. The words that haunt you and wash you off course. The salt of your tears matched perfectly with the sea.

But the wrong words will strand you.

Believing those lies. Believing even the kindest of hearts could ever be so impure. Knowing how much love is a risk and at any given moment it will strand you. Still you hold on to the words as unkind as they are because deep down you believe them. They hurt more than anything and still like clockwork you believe them. They were once the hope to get better and now they’re the stones that sink you straight to the bottom. The deep blue sea is a forgiving place but all you want to do is forget. Forgetting is easy for the sailors that play their part. You can’t control the emotions of others, therefore you throw yourself from the sand further to the sea. Sailing away to disappear to forget everything. Everything that caused an ounce of sadness. Everything that made the hurt of heartbreak. Everything that made the illusion of disappearing a dream and the running away a fantasy. You can’t escape the words as much as you can’t escape the sea. The more you think you need someone is the day they let you down. The day they go from saint to sinner, from sailor to stranger.

Needing you is needing forgiveness from a storm. Needing you is needing rain in a never ending drought. Needing you is like needing water in my lungs.

And this is the end.

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