dirty digging hands

i fight and repress and battle and regress.
finally the weight is too much and i collapse.
finally i put a hand up in surrender and find an offer of help.
a promise that im ok and acceptable and "normal."

for so long i have been made to feel wrong for what i have thought and felt and knew to be myself.
it's been harmful generalizations and plagerized symbolism.

"weird."
"has issues."
"depressed."
"strange."
"insane."
"nuts."
"awkward."
and simply, "too much."

i will never forget the most valuable thing that has been resounding in my mind through evidence too apparent to ignore:
who you are is all about the people you surround yourself with.

taking a step back it pains me to realize that i have forever been surrounding myself with absolutely the wrong people.
anyone that would use these words in association with my person is not a friend, is not family, and is not a helpful energy to be around.

so now, at 29, i am finding that i have been buried beneath unresolved conflicts, feelings i was taught were wrong and to be ignored, and situations i was instructed to disassociate from.

so i go to see someone to talk to once a week.
ive been learning about adhd and the neurobiological aspects behind it.
and it's eye opening.

not even just that, but piecing together the domino effect of emotional scenarios i tucked away under various rugs, brushing crumbs and remnants into every possible corner...

i feel like there is so much necessary digging that needs to happen.
and yeah, sometimes the ground is hard and uncooperative.
sometimes you hit roots and rock and debris that dont want to budge.
sometimes there are creepy crawlies that make you scream like a small girl.
but to know what im digging for... to be able to see it within my grasp, just a few more feet to go...

i see this dirty face and dirty hands in a small puddle at my side.
it looks ugly and horrid and my hair's a mess and my eyes are bloodshot and my face just reads EXHAUSTED.

but i see what's been buried underneath for so long and i want to reach it.
letting go of all of these things that have stopped me from being who im meant to be is painful and taxing and hard and tiring.
some days i would rather ignore the work ahead of me and just settle.
but then again ive never really been one to quit.

being around the right people is inspiring.
creative, honest, REAL people, unashamed of struggle and issues and flaws....
it inspires me to find out what's really been buried underneath all this shit for so long- beyond the limited line of sight that i have.

i feel like the forces of nature are against me right now though.
the more i push and dig, the more shit floats to the surface and the more hiccups i have along the way.
suddenly the city wants permits for my giant hole and dirt mound and then comes the tedious chore of paperwork and fines to sort out.

but if i let every hiccup continue to hold me down like an ugly desk paperweight, ill be nothing more than fragmented bits of a greater whole.... a jigsaw puzzle with gaps and spaces because out of 500 pieces, only 423 are actually there.

i want to be able to step back and see the big picture one day.
to know i made it.
to know who i really am and what im really about.

yes, my muscles are sore, my mind is fried, and i look about as appealing as a corpse pre-morgue.
and yes, it's painful pulling up these roots.
the tearing sound of their grasp finally being let go from the earth they clung so tightly to is comparable to the horrified screams of war casualties.

but this shit... this muck... this debris... this glorified cover up... it doesnt belong there.
so as tired as i am, as much as i really want to ignore the work ahead of me, i have to keep going.
child-like curiosity for what's really there... to be able to hold it touch it and explore it...
i anticipate and crave and yearn for what i can barely see.

so thank you to the people i can call family and can call friends.
to the ears that listen and the mouths that speak.
to the arms that hug and the doors that open.
to the thinkers and dream chasers and the realest of real souls that are inspired and inspire.
youve given me a breath of air to fill these lungs to just push to the finish line however many miles off it really is.

and when i find out what's there... i cant wait to thank you some more.

i always put periods where they dont belong

everything feels completely futile worth desiring.
i want to retreat within my paper thin skin and hide.
hide as if its some metallic fortress able to keep me safe.
safe from the memory of your hands and lips and sight.

these gray ashes tarnish my skin to a point unrecognizable.
endless shame for feeling mere infatuation at the glimmer of a smile.
foolish, small girl i am for wandering down that road.
i am but a transparent image of nonsense and mistakes.

ill let you go fade into nightmarish remains of memories on playback.
ill let you go as my lungs collapse from the weight of screams i cant contain.
ill let my dirty hands and face come clean from endless streams.
i cant stop the speeds at which theyre falling.

burning hate wells up in my chest and behind my bloodshot eyes.
i said too little then and too much in the aftermath of it all.
a glutton for sweet talk and craft beer and promises of days after.
how shamelessly i flaunted myself in front of the blade for my slaughter.

easier to hide in the guilt and blame you piled in high mounds
hoping to escape the evidence of your murderous hands
your smug arrogance won the battle over my confused, weak mind
i was left to swallow the jagged remains of this bitter reality

ill let you go fade into nightmarish remains of memories i want to erase.
ill let you go as my voice grows hoarse from screams i cant silence.
these endless streams are all that will cleanse this dirty skin
and with it wash away the flashbacks of dim lighting and your demonic gaze

somewhere in the cobwebbed corners where ive been trying to escape
there's the plug to the drain and i can just let this all go away
i can watch it swirl in beautiful patterns and shapes and become less and less
til it's nothing but a residue i can easily wipe away

demon eyed nightmare

im never really sure how half of the things i say exit my mouth- good or bad.
today a story came out to someone that honestly i havent shared with anyone in about 8 months.
as it came out of my mouth and this person had a look of understanding and sadness for what happened, i shrugged it off as if it were really not a big deal.

but something hung around.
like some spirit not aware that it's time to move on and go on to the afterlife.
and it's been haunting me a little ever since.

i looked at his face again.
his beady, demon eyes.
and then relived a slight bit of the haze of a really uncomfortable situation.

i didnt get this person beat up.
i know where they work.
i know their schedule.
i know their name.
i have the means to get this person brutally hurt.

but i cant.
karma somehow rules my logic.

and im not one to hate ever.
but thinking about it now...
i really, really hate this person.
i dont know why i went and looked at his face again.
maybe i just wanted to make sure it really happened and i wasnt imagining it all.
but no.
those beady, demon-like, dark eyes.
that slimy, thin lipped grin.
that ugly, horrible person.

how easy it became a situation flipped on me.
how i got called out and bitched at for trying to stand up for myself and stand my ground in the line of fire.
and how easy you got off.
how many people i had at hand that wanted to kill you.
kill you bare handed.

i wish i screamed for help.
i mean shit, it was in my house.
my roommate was home.

i started fighting at the gym again after that.
you would be the last person to find a yes in my no.
and trust me, if i ever see you, i will hurl fistfuls of my disgusting vomit all over you.

one day maybe i will let go of this hate.
i hope maybe sharing the story again will help it go away for good.

so yeah, this horrible nightmare of a memory came out today so nonchalant and calm and as the day wore on, the dark scenes flashed in my subconscious.
maybe it needed to come out today though.
maybe today was the day i needed to start sharing it again and just let this fear and hate and anger out for good.

i mean- you lied, you deceived me with your bullshit sob story and valiant good nature, and you raped me.
sir, you raped me no matter how youd like to shift the blame on me.
no does not mean yes ever.

so the vague details are here.  the actual story is a bit much for a blog.
and no this isnt an attention ploy.
just a part of my story.
a part i need to just let out somewhere.
it's hard to say it to a human face.
so hopefully now, the images can start to go away.

more ramblings of an insomniac

sometimes i feel like it would be better to live inside my own head,
the cryptic subtext underlying every spoken word
is so unsatisfying and unhuman
gnawing at my warm flesh

my brain feels poisoned yet heavy like a solid oak table
encompassed in dim gray lighting
playing back scenes of past events
and im sitting down watching this movie

all the parts i dont like i have no means to pass by
no remote to skip ahead to the next scene
i relive the horror in endless repeat
my eyes are burning from the sight

and all my ears can hear admist the screams and ringing
is shattering from these broken dreams
that i clench within my greedy fist
wounding these tired, overworked hands

arms so heavy laden with weights i and i alone insist upon carrying
unnecessary gratifications i refuse to set down
these non-essentials bearing down on me
with every weary step pressing forward

insomniac ramblings

nap fail in my car post-work/pre-class turned into this monstrosity....

all i keep thinking is painfully exposed in patterns of right and wrong
carefully crafted assumptions make their way to the surface of my cerebral cortex
in line with what i know, doubt becomes the obvious solution
my drug of choice isnt available til after 10am
need to find a better way to cope with this reckless mix of emotions
a solid place to stand my ground in a battle not even worth finding
no point in choosing sides because it all ends up in the same place
arms around these knobby knees, head down watering the earth beneath me
sometimes i see right through this game you play and dont feel my time is worth these tests to take
but then i remember fragments of words spoken...
the passion of a few kisses feels like moments stolen
my battle lies in the dreamlike haze of watching our naked skin beneath the sheets
hearing racing pulses in place of gunshots
but both equally present the same opportunity for wounds and damage
fragile frame, this mess you made all because you cant silence the voices in your own brain
overassuming, disbelieving any positive advance, you call it scheming
cant see anything for what it may be
cant find the beauty in the storm impending
you give way and deprive your brain of the sleep it craves,
forcing it to run away with the abusive lover, your inner insane

it just is what it is

this concept i am struggling so hard to embrace is just letting life happen.
im used to structure and schedule, always having an end to the scattered pieces.
i struggle and fight so much from not knowing.

but so much beauty comes from waiting.
there's a subtle admiration of scenery and ... time to listen.
so much good can come from just listening.
listening to what is being said and not what you are only hearing.

of course the only analogy i can relate this to is baking.
but if you rush cupcakes, they are gooey and soggy and not at all what they are meant to be.
they take time.
if you stand at the oven just staring through that small window... time never passes and you hastily keep opening the door causing heat to escape, thus lengthening the time they need.

i dont know why i cant seem to get it some days.
why i just have this urge to know what is going to happen before it does.
maybe i fear the fall and the pain associated with it.

but in all honesty, sometimes you just have to jump.
jump and let go.
let the breeze take you where it may.
feel the wind beneath your outstretched arms and the warmth of sunlight on your face.
even just thinking about that creates the most amazing calm inside of me to a point where i can just close my eyes and...breathe...
no more tension.
no more fear.
no more hopeless defeat.
just weightless .... absorbed weightlessness.

some days it makes sense to me.
i dont fear the unknown or potential loss.
i can take the tiny moments that have occurred and love that they happened not expecting anything less or more.
it just is what it is.
it happened.
it was.
and it was beautiful.
other days, especially the sleepless ones, my brain races and scrambles and tries to piece together this imaginary puzzle. 
it makes shadows and shapes unbeknown to human kind creating a sense of worry.
these ungodly sharp images....
they haunt and harass.

so, it's time to again for this tired mind to jump.
to make the conscious effort to jump.
to let go of what i want and hope for and let life just be what it may.
to accept the little smiles that come.
they arent earned or deserved or wished or hoped.
they just are.
just little momentary smiles that came and may or may not happen again.
they are sentences in my vast and ever lengthening story.
and one day, if i continue to let life just do what it may and let the breeze carry me along with no resistance... no scrambling effort to dig my fingers into the pavement.... who knows... i may have a beautifully, exciting story to share.

the cyclical pattern of life is being made so aware to me right now.
the intertwining fabrics of each person.
how we all make this beautiful end result.
how each person is part of a specific pattern that if put anywhere else simply looks out of place.

i finally feel like im finding my niche and my place. 
i finally feel like i found the square on the quilt or my place in line with the hemline.
and for the first time in a long time i can say that i simply just feel at peace.

im understanding now that yes, i was so very frustrated before with where i was and where my life was or was not going. 
i was angry and fighting life and fate and time.
TIME.
the very thing i fought so hard for so long hit me like a ton of bricks today with logic.

if any of the things that led me to know were rushed, i wouldnt have been ready.
all those awful people i have encountered before and the bad scenarios i was in...
the brought me to here.
to let the breeze carry me.
and sometimes wind is violent and destructive.
sometimes it causes damage in moving things places.
but the breeze is moving me.
to a very different place.
a place that although so unfamiliar and new, feels exactly and perfectly like home.