Stream of Consciousness

Demons in the Dark

I keep coming back to this one quote.

 

“I understood myself only after I destroyed myself. And only in the process of fixing myself, did I know who I really was.”
– Sade Andria Zabala

 

A few months ago, I decided to say screw it.

I’d had to quit my job. My health was terrible and I could hardly eat anything at all. I was feeling like I’d never be any good at my YouTube channel, even though I put in so much time, effort, and money. I ran out of money. I was obsessed with the fact that I’m turning 29 this year and I’m still not financially reliant.

My health had destroyed me. I couldn’t see any way out of my constant struggle to work with my health issues until it tore me apart and I had to quit.

How am I supposed to be a person when all I am is the impossible restrictions my body places on me, as it tries to stop me from living?

When bipolar depression and anxiety slither into every split second?

When the doctors’ only answers are, “I don’t know what else we can try”?

When I feel no enjoyment, only physical and psychological pain that I can’t escape?

So I gave into it.

The hopelessness, depression, doubt, and pain that swam just below the surface of my every moment, every thought, every forced smile.

 

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For a good month, I probably wasn’t the funnest person to be around.

I’m glad.

Because I’m sick of caring about everyone else to the point that I don’t exist.

So what if people are uncomfortable because I’m not faking a smile or pretending to be happy and peppy?

I BLOODY MATTER TOO!

I’d gotten fed up with putting on a face. Being what everyone else needed. With being so wrapped up in feeling like I had the responsibility to make others happy. Or that I was a bad person if I wasn’t in a good mood all the time (even though it was quite fine for others to have their mood swings).

Hadn’t I learned this lesson already?

 

So I spent a good month being depressed. Mad at God (knowing I was wrong to be mad at Him), fighting with myself over everything I felt, despondent. Hopeless. Angry. Crying. Sinking in emotions I hated, didn’t want. Wanted free from. 100% negative. Drowning in terror that this was all my life would ever be. The back and forth from Hell.

No matter what I did. No matter how hard I fought.

I got wrapped up in me and all that I’d been ignoring. Letting all the sickness I ignored take the driver’s seat. I was swallowed by the pain I’d denied.

 

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I can’t pinpoint exactly where I came out of it.

But I know I needed it.

I feel different.

More solid.

 

Trying to pretend I didn’t feel all these things, feeling ashamed that they existed inside me, and shoving them down – it hurt me. Gave these feelings power over me. And caring so much about being what others wanted just made it a harder trap to escape from.

 

I feel like too many of us feel like we’re a burden. A good vibes killer. A downer. Too much to love. Hard to love.

That’s absolute crap.

We are strong. We have so much to fight through. To deal with. We are not bad or wrong for feeling how we feel.

We don’t owe anyone a peppy attitude.

 

I mean, there’s a different between focusing on negative thoughts and bad things in life – and feeling your feelings instead of burying them.

There’s also a difference between feeling your feelings and taking them out on others.

 

There’s no reason for us to feel guilty or ashamed for having hard days. Hard weeks. Struggles. Pain. Doubts. Fears.

When we try to pretend we don’t feel these things, we give them a certain power over us. And they fester in the darkness of our souls. Until they’re bigger and stronger than us.

 

We don’t owe anyone being fake.

We owe it to ourselves to live inside our own skin.

Either that, or we lose ourselves.

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Shadow Poetry

price to pay

i felt you coming

fingers sliding up my spine

miles away

 

i was told to fear you

taught hatred

revulsion

 

for sharp intentions

and sturdy makings

how they’d be so disappointed

 

in me now

i’ve gone the way

they look away from

 

hushed skeletons

dancing in the wardrobe

of their fancy guilt

 

i stole away in broad daylight

laughing into the on pour

sloughing off all my silver

 

dainty little shoes in the gutter

they shied away from the truth

but i knew

 

i knew you

inky fingers laced crimson

choked down their words

 

their own making

as they curtsied in public

buried their bodies in silence

 

i had none

waiting in the sunlight

watching in the darkness

 

one and the same

it wasn’t a race

not the war they made it

 

and freedom wasn’t very expensive

after all

all i had to do was

 

drop my mask

peel off my bullet proof vest

step into the unknown

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Shadow Poetry

Love

Eyes that shine blood red

In the dark

Watching

Waiting

For the underbelly to be exposed

Fangs to know

Claws to reason

 

Run, they said

But the creatures

Lurking in the hollows of our nightmares

They are so very hard to break

And my hands are already so dirty

Necromance me

 

Stream of Consciousness

You

Be who you are!

It’s your superpower. Your sneak attack. They’ll never see you coming if you stick to who you truly are, day to day.

Yes, you can change bad habits. You can change learned behavior and conditioned responses.

But you are you. And you know this is true.

You deserve your love, respect, and compassion. You deserve to enjoy your life! And you can’t very well do that if you’re embarrassed by who you are.

Be you.

We need you.

You need you.

 

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Stream of Consciousness

lines

there’s a line

 

a definite line

and when we cross it

there’s no turning back

no erasing our footprints

no pretending the heart didn’t feel

mind didn’t realize

soul didn’t grasp the undeniable fact

that there’s no starting over

 

we can’t always see this line

sometimes it sneaks up on us

an intruder in the night

stealing what was

taking what could’ve been

and muffling the present

until it can speak no more

 

one false move

a single of the slightest changes

whether we know it or not

planned for the whole nine yards

or a solitary glimmer

 

one little line, crossed

can topple the whole castle

 

will we be inside

when it falls?

 

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Stream of Consciousness

Somehow

Oddly enough, I’m having a really good day.

I’m in pain. A lot of pain. A new pain on top of my normal gut pain, head pain, nausea, dizziness, fatigue, aches, eye pain, jaw pain, brain fog, depression, and anxiety.

But I’m in a really good mood.

It’s almost as if I’ve stood back from my physical and mental pain – and can somehow enjoy simply being here.

I haven’t disassociated. I know what that feels like.

Maybe it’s that whole mindfulness stuff. 

 

But there’s a sadness to it. A bitter sweet tinge that I can’t actually taste. I know it’s there, but I don’t feel it. 

What is this sadness? This bittersweet sensation?

It’s reality.

 

I guess I tweeted it best, a few minutes ago. Just tweeted my thoughts without thinking about it.

(pity party alert) 2020 is destroying me. I had to quit my job due to health. Now I’m stressed about money. And to top it all off, I see fellow ASMaRtists getting so many subscribers in such a short amount of time. I’ve been at it for 1.5 years! Do I just suck?

I’m just so tired of none of my hard work paying off. Whether it’s my health, my writing, my ASMR channel… I work my butt into the ground to fix all of this, to grow, get better, and nothing is changing in a healthy direction.

It makes me so happy and raises my hope to see fellow writers and ASMaRtists succeeding. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say it makes me wonder if I’m NOT succeeding because I don’t have anything to offer that people want. And my health issues just get worse, no matter what I try.

I don’t mean to complain, but writing & ASMR? These things are what make me happy. I put so much effort into them & my health gives me very little to work with. I HAVE to make money. But its looking more & more like my health won’t allow for both creativity & financial security.

Some days I wonder if I’ll be able to keep writing or doing ASMR. Why have a life if I can’t do anything with it that I enjoy? I want to thrive not just survive. But the problem is always money. Some days I feel like the game is rigged against me.

 

Today reality hurts, yes. But it can’t hurt me.

Somehow, I’m happy. Somehow, I’m okay.

It’s an odd distinction. I don’t know if I can even describe it entirely. 

Almost as if I’m looking at my life from a distance, even as I live it.

 

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Micro Stories

enchantment

“run away with me”

isn’t appealing to me

don’t whisper it in my ear

or dream up fanciful futures

in some far away land

 

no.

stay

spin a tail of our reality

so firm and heart breakingly beautiful

haunt my dreams

with seductions you can spin here

now, today

 

if you can’t spell a story

with what we’ve got

then you’re no fairy tale life

 

weave me a telling

better yet

entice yourself

create magic out of the ordinary

 

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