i took a break from crying

i dont know what came over me.
maybe it was the copious amounts of insulin racing through my body from the birthday cake i ate or maybe it was the universe aligning something up just right.

some synapse within my brain made a great impact. 
and i began to cry.
i don't think cry is even right...
i sobbed.
i bawled.
i felt the walls building up again.

i thought about how hard it is to trust.
i can't believe a nice thing anyone says without assuming they mean the opposite.
i interpret kindness as sarcasm and cruelty because that's in my instinct.
i dont know how to believe someone, let someone near me in that way.

i realized you were the last one.
you were the last one i let in and let that close and you hurt me the worst.
the worst.
and i'm not over that feeling.
im over you.
just not over how awful you made me feel.
you fucked me up for everyone else.
im afraid to believe anyone because of you.

so i took a break from the crying to write this down and someday soon look back on this with a whole heart and feel stupid for this post.
im just scared ill be like a princess trapped behind these walls that just will not crumble and doors that won't budge. 
now back to my regularly scheduled nonsense....
letting go....

getting off on the wrong foot

apparently im too much.
too hyper.
too outspoken.
too chatty.
too excited.
too tense.
too stressed.

but in the same breath im invisible.
in the same breath im negative.
im small.
im better off hiding.

i don't know who or what i mesh with anymore.
i know im content being alone.
at least for right now.

i hope i can shake this off.

don't turn your head

it's amazing how making a few decisions... tough ones... and altering said decisions to be realistic and not childish and bratty have taken an amazing toll on my mental health.

i hardly care.
the lies and stories are what they are and im content to leave them there unconcerned if they are lies or stories, false or true.
i know you love her.
i know you love her and don't want to tell me.

this eccentric dance men do with me... tiptoeing around my feelings, afraid to admit the obvious truth that is blaring in my face, resounding like a gong that is right next to my left ear....
i tell them of the sound and they tell me i am insane and crazy.
and that is when they take off running.

all i want is to be given the decency of being told the truth.

but anyway, back to NOT caring.
i dont.
i realize i cared so much because i hadn't cared in so long.
and you... you taught me there is life behind the concrete wall guarding my tiny, cold, little heart.
like the grinch, it kind of grew a little.
maybe not to the point where it breaks the measuring device, but big enough....
and that is why i cared so much.
that was the origin of fear in just walking away from you.
whether you or i ever want to realize it, you taught me how to care again.
you taught me that it is ok to let someone in, be hurt, and move on.
you taught me that moving on doesnt always mean goodbye forever.

im excited right now with these new ventures.
im excited to try again and let someone near me and see what happens.
who knows?

all i DO know is that i have to let go when the gong is resounding.
the trumpet is blaring in my face and you tell me to cover my ears to deafen the sound in fear of what you will do to my tiny, broken feelings....
i need to take off running, break the tie that binds and go the next time i hear that sound.
cut the cord so completely.... sever it so unevenly that it can not be retied.
and that's ok.

because the very phrase that keeps resounding.... the very voice and phrase i trust ever so completely right now is this:
i am continuously being freed up for something better.

with every sad goodbye, every heartwrenching declaration of the honest truth, and unreturned phone call.... im being freed up for something better.
with every missed opportunity, case of bad timing, and negative bank account..... im being freed up for something better.

you have to take the bad with the good, the sad with the joyful, and the embarrassment with the shining moments.
life just works like that.
i've had such a downpour of negative events recently that i know... i know some sunny days are ahead and they are warm and beautiful and the smells will be as intoxicating as they highs they give me.
but i have to wait.
and waiting is not a bad thing.
waiting prepares us for the good to come.
waiting makes us grateful and appreciative.
life should be lived no other way.

so maybe im not just rambling to myself instead of fixing my bad hair day before work.
all i can say is wait.
better is coming.
appreciate the storm for now because even if your house blows away or breaks and floods.... you're being freed up for something better.
don't hold tightly to anything or anyone in your life cos so easily it/they can come and go with the breeze.
just be patient.  welcome change.  sometimes it is a wind that blows so cold and so fierce but it's ok.... cos in the end... you may have messy hair and be in an unfamiliar place....but quite possibly it may be the thing to save your life

with that said i have to fix my messy hair.
good day friends.

freeing up for something better

so no, this year has not began exactly as i'd hoped.
in a matter of two weeks i have had to say goodbye to a few people i care about, my trip to texas to visit an old friend got cancelled, and today, it looks like i have to let go of going back to school in january to begin a 10 year journey to being a scientist.

im not even kidding.
i really wanna be a research scientist.
i really miss these people i have had to say goodbye to.
i really wanted to visit texas, enjoy my friend and some warmer temperatures, and get a break from life.

but it's not in my cards.
my cards spoke of patience and my intuition.
my cards really spoke of patience.

what keeps resounding in my brain is this small, quiet, still voice telling me:
"being freed up for something better."

now normally im not a fan of positive mantra mumbo jumbo.
i don't have a thing that i speak over and over in times of stress.
i don't read the tampon box and feel energized by the positive saying to encourage me in my womanly time.

but this....
this quiet voice that keeps resounding when bad things are happening.
this voice i trust.
this voice i believe.

im frustrated dont get me wrong.
im upset and angry and feel cheated and flustered.
i feel hurt.

but for the first time it isn't sending me into a downward spiral of coffee, whiskey and cookies.
it's sending me into a proactive tornado of sorting out my shit and moving on to better.

so yet again, thanks life.  you may be throwing me curveballs and fireballs and fucking a-bombs but guess what?  i may swing and miss, but i still have another shot to make a hit.  so there.

no harm upon your skin

this faint illusion
that i meant something
spills out leaving stains
marks on my sheets
a sticky mess on my sleeve
remembering words spoken
exchanges of something more
that you're too scared to admit
and im too afraid to let go of

and the ache inside the cavity
in the center of my chest
grows and stings worse
like salt in open flesh

i let you abuse me
kindly and sweetly
tearing my skin open
with words of promise
but you break them
and you stab me
the remains of words so cheap
are sharp and cold

and the ache inside the cavity
in the center of my chest
grows and stings worse
like salt in open flesh

holding on so tight
my palms are tearing open
you stare at cascading blood
and turn to walk away
you didnt do it
it's not your fault
you were broken from the start
excuse enough to hide behind

but in reality
you love availability
and feed me til i choke
on endless excuses
but in reality
you love what you do to me
you love to watch me choke
on all of your remains

and the ache inside the cavity
in the center of my chest
grows and stings worse
like salt in open flesh
you pour it til im writhing
and then you turn to walk away
no harm upon your skin
it's better off this way

between a rock and a hard place

sometimes the one person that you need to hear "i care about you" from is yourself.
sometimes those words, those actions that you take to better where you are at mentally and emotionally and hell, even physically, mean more than the most amazing person providing that for you.

and so here i am, heart in hand, staring at the bloody mass of tissue.
and so here i am, making choices that momentarily do not feel good.
but im reminded of the promises that i made to myself for this new year.
im reminded that i swore to a year of taking care of myself, providing for myself the legs to stand on physically and emotionally that will take me to better places.

i started taking my meds again at the recommendation of a friend.
i have to say, 2 days in, i already feel better.
im less anxious and overwhelmed.
im motivated to do good not just in my surroundings, but for myself.

and yet the heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach...
the sinking, stinging feeling in the empty cavity in my chest does not feel all that rewarding.

but these little moments.... these little moments will amount to something much greater in the long run im sure.

growing up is hard.
making life better for oneself to be able to be better for others is hard.
it's hard but so necessary.

so here i go off into the dark unknown hoping that my choices right now will make life better for myself and others in the long run.
i find myself between this rock and hard place all too often and at some point, you gotta get a little bloody and climb up out of the mess and move forward.

words before coffee

im glad.
im very glad i have people in my life to remind me.
to remind me of promises ive made to others and to myself.
actually, im very glad i have people in my life that remind me to take care of myself and be good to myself.
i always joke i need a mommy or to take my meds, but yesterday was proof for both.

the conversation i went to bed with was along the lines of the above:  take your meds, be good to yourself, focus on your own mental health.

i had this nasty habit of surrounding myself with others that needed fixing so as to avoid fixing my own self.
when my demons proved to bear too much weight, i was left with nothing more than to find my own way.
and i have been.
ive met some really great people along the way that don't judge me for my issues and really encourage me to be a whole, well thought human.

but then there's this one small area.
this gray area.
this gray area where i know what real color it is but just wont admit it.
this gray area where i like to dip my toes into and get bit by angry little creatures.
it's as if i thrive on the rush of the pain.
the stinging sensation that courses through my body.
the dull ache inside my chest that somehow also feels as if ive swallowed a lead balloon.
the knowing despair because of the already known.

i  need to put this to rest.
i started to.
i really did.
but you.... you always lure me back.
there's something about you that i believe in so much im willing to throw my own sanity away just to wait around to see you thrive and be well.
i don't know why.
dear sir i wish i knew why i couldn't throw you out with the rest of them.
im told to hold none of your words as valid or true and to wait for the action to surpass the verbage.
for some reason i find myself scrutinizing your choice of words, your flow and pattern of sentence structure.
i dissect each syllable til i am left holding boxes of letters that simply make no sense.
hieroglyphic intricacies i know nothing of.
still i wait.
stringing words together before ive had my morning fix of coffee.
trying to remember all those words over coffee.
and in the morning haze of fatigue and no caffeine i wait.
i wait to see if you even make a momentary gesture before i tell you i cant anymore.
before i tell you this up and down roller coaster,
this cyclical pattern with twists and turns...
well....
well it makes me sick and dizzy and i cant anymore.

dear sir i can no longer put you first.
this want to see you thrive and be the amazing man i know you are is not enough to sell my own self.
your lines of needing help for months now are nothing more than that....
lines of a script where the leading man is ending a dramatic scene.
that's all this feels like...
one dramatic scene after another.
no storybook ending.
no third act twist.
just gritted teeth spewing out lines.
i believe in you far more than i understand why.
i sometimes even believe you although your eloquent and full speech alludes to a cover up.

so should my day end and yours just begin and you still havent found the words to reply to the previous day where i just want to know what the hell we are doing here... what you want from me and what you THINK i really want from you.... well then...
well then, dear sir, i can only stare at this blank wall that has waited for your brush for so long before i feel foolish and hang pictures in its stead.
you are full of empty promises.
you are full of broken.
you are full of broken that you choose not to clean up and let everyone else step on the shards and then tell them that it is much too risky to enter instead of cleaning up the god damn mess.
my calloused soles can not take any more punctures from your past.
put on your workboots sir, grab a broom and get to it.
it is far more daunting to stare at remains than to get in there and start the somewhat tedious process.
sometimes you miss and dont get it all either but....the point is that youve begun.
youve begun and there is room again.