In today's world, it is not uncommon for feelings to rule. If I look back on my life, it has been this way for a long time. I cannot say it was always this way. Generations before me experienced feelings in situations, dealing with them, then letting them go. Life went on, and hurt or …
(It is #77) What the hell am I doing? I rarely cuss. I hate it, to be honest. If it leaves my mouth, my patience is fried. I may be there today. I watched a movie early this morning. A sappy love film. "How long have you been married? Do you really even know who …
...Unfortunately, every night became a haunted nightmare, and to survive, I closed my eyes and flew away. With my baby sister in the bunk bed below me, I endured the torture, hopeful he would leave her alone. I would shed a tear in the darkness and whisper in my mind, "don't move… don't move..don't wake up…don't see.."
Stepping into Done
Is this a meltdown of sorts? For the first time in my life, I am crying out to myself- not a doctor, not family, not even God. I am internally wailing at myself to wake up, to feel, to live. Yet, I have zero response in me.
There is darkness in information overload, constant debating turned confrontation and reading the barrage of opinions and rude remarks. We listen, unpack, then regurgitate it back to the masses. All the while, filling our thoughts with worldly nonsense in a brain not capable of holding more. Processing is a function that tires you out. If you don't prioritize your ideas, you will lose ground in mental clarity and stability.
Where something beautiful should be, lies a vacant space only filled with the waste of pain. Years of abuse scavenged every last bit of light—a broken mind from a broken heart.
..Beating her in and out.
And there flying free,
Her dreams escape her now.
As morning sun arises,
And newness hollers, "Free!"
Lies the skeleton of survival,
No longer needed or in need.
"I'm doing all I can to get through my own struggle."
Depression is relentless. We struggle to overcome, and it fights to defeat us. The pursuit of our mind is that of a hunter and it's prey.