Close the Book?

I finally close the book
And place it gently on the shelf
with one last painful look

The shelf itself is in my mind
and filled with memories
A collection of emotions
– this too is one of these

I need to live the moments
because always is too long
The secret’s in the letting go,
it’s reckless to hold on

The pain will surely happen
and the hurting is intense
So take the loss and don’t look back,
just use more common sense

Adversity will teach you much,
and hope you may have learned
That in this thing we all call life,
one’s hopes sometimes get burned.

HOPE

it's cold...dark
this place...is hard
no happiness. no sunshine
fear lurks in the corners
leaving no escape

memories, like bullets, drive into my mind

can't run or hide or fight back
the cold, the dark, the terror...

reach for something to heal from the horror
there is something there...a small sliver of hope
but when broken...shattered
how to trust the contentment it offers?

have i grown too dependant on only myself?
have i become the woman who is too afraid?
will the haunting of past demons keep me locked away?

fear circles me...pokes at my sides, tugs my hair
i wish i could leave here, find warmth, comfort...safety

hope beckons me and pleads with me to let it lead me from this place
i want the warmth to surround me and keep the darkness away
i'm scared because what if i find only a new darkness?
i let my eyes find the center of this new hope...search it for signs of evil

hope reaches for me...and i reach back

Today's Pondering

"Trusting in God involves the loss of our agenda, our flaming torch, so that we die to our inclination to live a lie. It requires forfeiting our rigid, self-protective, God-dishonoring ways of relating in order to embrace life as it is meant to be lived: in humble dependence on God and passionate involvement with others." ~Dan Allender

My inclination is toward isolation, for self-protection, due to lack of trust. This is challenging me. And it goes on...

"Do I believe that God is a loving Father who is committed to my deepest well-being, that He has the right to use everything that is me for whatever purposes He deems best, and that surrendering my will and my life entirely to Him will bring me the deepest joy and fulfillment I can know this side of heaven?"

Thunderstorm of the Mind

A thunderstorm just blew through. Beautiful, frightening....a relief and a terror. The highs are sometimes beautiful, a relief from the despair of the depression. Why would anyone CHOOSE to come down from that? Because the next step is the paranoia, the poor choices, the eventual loss of reality. The pacing all night long and the obsession with projects.

So friends, let me say that my closet is organized, my paperwork is systematically filed, my bathrooms are spotless, there's food for weeks in the freezer, the laundry is completely done and put away and I've slept only 6 or 7 hours in the last 3 days. Loving this! And truly angry that I have to call the doctor tomorrow and see what I have to do to reign it in.

The last 3 months have been drenched in darkness and this feels so good! What a shame that my brain doesn't understand "normal" anymore.

if an illusion is an illusion, can you prove it was there? if a delusion is never there, how was it there to begin with? if the mind can open doors that are not there, do they really exist, or do they exist as an illusion?

when does reality become imaginary and imaginary become reality? if the door opens to the realms of complexity and multiple realities, then each existence must be real....from each opening to the next, inside every person's imagination. from imagination reality can develop, then reality can be changed to illusion and maybe people think it was a delusion

so....is it real, an illusion or a delusion? who's to say....

Walls and Nightmares

I hear that those who have bipolar tend to get manic during the warmer months. That has not been my pattern...maybe later, in the summer. But springtime ushers in the ache of depression. I'm not alone in this, I know. I've talked to others. The PTSD is worse as well...whether related to BP or therapy...I don't know. Nights are the hardest so I write what I feel and see:

Walls feel tighter every day,
falling in downward spirals,
losing hope.
 
Holding my head in my hands;
nights get darker, like the breath of winter,
chilling with the ghosts screeching from the closet….
 
Going crazy, going crazy, going crazy
a little more each day.
Push the ghosts away but they never stop coming….
flashbacks trapping me in this room.
 
Walls squeezing air from my lungs.
Loss of breath as breath breezes my neck
kicking and screaming throwing blankets to the floor
till the room is empty, airless.
 
Sitting crumpled on my knees in cold reality.

Friday Night

House quiet, drinking detox tea, hoping it will cleanse the poison from my soul. Neck aches. Hate myself. Impatient with everything. Restless, energized but unfocused, sad, little, alone, overwhelmed, exhausted.
 
I want to ask for myself back. I believe this is not who I was supposed to be. I've seen too much of the other side to believe this is who I was created to be. I want better. I am afraid in this moment that it's not possible. I am weary of the poison identity.
 
I want to hurt myself just so I can feel something else. Mute screaming. Not panic, just a girl looking for a fight. I don't want to be soothed in this moment. I want to spit back at them.....every bastard who has ever shown contempt for me....tossed his head and said foul words to make me feel cheap, told me lies to get what he wanted, taken what was not freely given.
 
How can I know when I am practicing self-determination or when the conditioning of abuse endured is running the show?
 
Is my life worth it to me to do the work of healing?
 
Imploding. Tonight grief crashed in waves so fierce I could not stay on my feet.