Writing As A Form Of Therapy

[Twilightsomniac]

Hard psych sessions lately so decided to write about feelings from my last one before my next appointment tomorrow 

I find it annoying when people say I place too much blame on you for the past

But you don't even acknowledge I do this

Or just completly oblivious 

I try so hard to show a separation between us

But the more I distance myself you think our relationship is thriving 

My feelings of hurt and betrayal don't even show on your radar

As you so focused on what affects you no matter who is around you 

People question why I blame you for what others did to me

Well none of it would have happened if you gave a dam about me

But instead of protection you left me to defend for myself 

This lead to me putting myself in harms way to protect the more vulnerable 

Even at a young age I had to fill the spot you left vacant 

You should have kept the darkness of the world at bay 

Instead you invited it in and looked the other way

I became destroyed inside 

Just fragmented pieces 

You look at me through your rose glasses 

Tell people that I'm thriving when really I'm only surviving 

Someone who thrives looks to the future with joy

I look at tomorrow and wonder if I'll see another day.

Despite how broken I am inside I still do my job

You may not see it but you failed in yours

I know you were broken too and destroyed inside 

But as a mother you take on the responsibility to ensure that your kids don't get hurt the same way

But you didn't do that and it's what hurts the most 

You didn't even try when you should have 

You repeated the mistakes done to you instead of learning from them

I am broken and I don't pretend I am prefect

I make mistakes but at least I'm trying to break the neglect cycle 

I treasure my children 

I protect them from harm

I shield them from the darkness 

I fix broken pieces 

I help them to thrive 

I still make mistakes 

But at least they won't be broken adults

I may be only surviving but I survive for them 

Because if I keep surviving and doing my job my kids will thrive and be able to pass it on

[deshift]

The hands of the clock wave at me like I should know what time it is already.
Their movements are empty, or maybe it’s because they are accustomed to holding those flags that are lights, the ones that guide aircraft to land on the mothership.
But it’s way past my time for bed, and instead of guiding me in, they are shouting gently that if I don’t sleep enough I might crash into the ocean of worried nonsense.
I’ve been in that storm for 18 years now, pailing water out of the captains helm, anchor weighed in this little bay before the reef hits up against the sand bar.
I’d swim if I wasn’t terrified of jellyfish kissing up against me.
I’ve survived on a steady diet of psychotherapy and intermittent self-sabotage.
The radio doesn’t work, and the MP3 player I brought along, only has this ridiculous Aretha Franklin album about shitty ex boyfriends.
Maybe nobody needs me in their life but the jellyfish.
With their incandescent globules guiding me into the water.
I’m going to get stung probably, but at least I’d be less stinky.
I might even make it to shore, and the food I can smell from there is better than the punishment I dish out to myself.
Maybe it has fresh bbq pork, and mangoes, and self-loathing.
I could make a canoe out of the bed frame where it all went wrong.
It might be better than avoiding going to sleep, and hearing her name call out over and over in my head.
I hate fishing now, my next lover is going to be a turtle.
Sturdy, well protected, great swimmer, cute but lacking in finer dexterity.
Unable to hold the flags that might signal what they expect of me.
I’m a decent sailor, I just lost my first mate to the karma.
And I lost my hope to the storm, each bucketful of water I empty, is a mouthful of self-help to swallow.
Trauma is like that.
I think I’m tired enough to shut my eyes now.

[deshift]

Snow coloured rainbows
Freezing the nipples and testies of queers all over
Did that begin the promiscuity thought train?
I got a free ride, free ticket, free buffet
Free infectionary disease
Lacking the kind of warmth you would expect from intimacy
More of a burning itch instead
Can I start again?

Snow coloured rainbows
Directing me out of this blizzard
I smell the smoke, and hear chopping of wood
There’s gold here, her hair maybe
There’s no green but for her eyes
And I feel calm looking at them watching me
I went for groceries, and I got stuck in the 21st century 
I tried to apologise but it ruined any chance of a hug
Can I start again?

Snow coloured rainbows
Why does that seem familiar?
A cold swim will kick me in
To the next chapter in my existence
I’m dreaming of the last page, last paragraph
But I’m re-reading the last line that I’m up to
Wondering if I can be written down
Living the change to become one
Now I’m starting to feel again.

[tonys]

Its taken me a while to venture out and look for different threads.   The 'still'     mirrored in these 

waters tell me there's uncertain depth to them.

Now and then I shall come sit beside and ponder what lays beneath..

Thankyou too the brave.   I  bathe in the pools of your eyes.                                              tonys mb1

[rivergal]

I come back to SANE today

It has been just over 2 years since my last psychotic break.

I have had 6 in my 57 years, at 24, 28, 40, 44, 51, 55.

I have always tried to write down the memories to try and piece and place the fragments together.

I came across a biography by Anna Jacobson - 'How to knit a human' and it took me back to my experiences of ECT when i was 24.

These experiences I talk of to only a few. 

I reread what i have written over the years in my journals.

These parts of me I must honor and show respect too.

It was painful but i am grateful for all I am.

I don't want to experience Psychosis again so I must take care.

I write here to share with some who may have experienced something similar and find comfort and peace in this post.

Thank you.

[Shaz51]

Hey @rivergal , and welcome back,  great to see you here 😀 

@tonys , @Ainjoule , @tyme , @RiverSeal 

[rivergal]

Thanks @Shaz51

[tyme]

@rivergal @Silenus @Shaz51 ,

Yes, I really think writing on the forums is a real therapy for me. I am always scared to write in a diary in case it gets found and is read by the wrong person. 

However, I feel safe to write and share on these forums.

Glad to have this thread revived.

[GonePirate]

Now I feel the pull of the force of the strength of the tug,

Its the love of the lust of the lie of the drug.

I feel the magnetic attraction the intense pull across the room,

And I'm hopelessly falling again into you.

I should've never answered the call of your song,

The sweet melody of your voice for that I long,

It invades my peace my serenity my soul and my calm,

And it lurches me forcefully and I'm completely disarmed.

Our eyes meet for a moment that lingers in my mind,

For the minutes the hours the lasting of time.

And my lungs once more expanding with the embrace of your breath,

And I remember that this love was always till death.

I know I should've never danced to your rhythm again,

Should've known just how tragically our love story ends.

Should've trusted my instincts and stayed far away,

Knowing I'm not strong enough to refuse you again...