Marble Tongues

Maybe when it drops down

We’ll make sense of it

Maybe not

 

If the sun drips sapphire

It might burn to the bone

Maybe simply warm

The ashes

Until they catch fire

 

If we drown in our riches

Perhaps the earth will sorrow

Or perhaps she’ll sigh

And drink down the blood

An offering to the carrion

To restore balance

 

Maybe when it falls down

We’ll make a foundation of it

Maybe not

 

If the bones keep dry

I’ll sleep inside the carcass

No one will breathe my way

 

 

By Daphne Shadows

Cinnamon Swirl

 

Sunlight Melts

Like lemon drops

And butterscotch lace

 

 

Kissing

Tick

An icy dam

Tock

 

Dripping down the side

Seeping through the cracks

Spilling over

 

Molten flame

Licking at the

Patchwork parts

 

The cold fights back

Tick

Like a broken flurry of

Plastic wrapped mints

Tock

 

Cutting deep

Frenzied

 

Heated satin

Cauterizes all breaches

Lapping up tiny

Peppermint tears

 

This house

Is a walk-in freezer

Tick

Burning exposed flesh

Tock

 

 

 

By Daphne Shadows

Shame vs. Guilt

Shame is bad.

Guilt can be good.

 

Shame is when someone eats an entire box of donuts and someone says, “You’re disgusting.” Or, “You will never be a good role model for kids”. Or something else equally shaming.

Guilt is when someone eats an entire box of donuts and someone says, “Eating all of those donuts in one sitting is kinda gross.” Or, “Eating all of those donuts isn’t something you want to model for your kids.”

 

Shame = YOU are wrong, bad, disgusting, an idiot, not good enough, etc.

Guilt = something you have DONE, an action or decision you’ve made, is bad, disgusting, and so on.

 

The difference may be in one word, but the difference is in reality, HUGE.

The difference between shame and guilt is whether or not we hate ourselves or something we’re doing.

 

Shame tells us (whether we heard it from ourselves or someone else) that there is something fundamentally wrong and disgusting about us. It tells us we aren’t good enough, we’re broken, we cannot achieve anything of value. Shame tells us that we have no value and never can.

Guilt, on the other hand, tells us when we aren’t doing something we approve of. Our actions, motives, or words aren’t lining up with our values or beliefs.

 

For example: Bob steals from Sandy.

Bob has three options.

Option A: Feel guilty.

Option B: Feel ashamed.

Option C: Feel guilty and ashamed.

 

Option A gives Bob the ability to say to himself, “hey, self – that was messed up! I don’t believe in stealing. I feel terrible about what I did. I know it was wrong.” This gives Bob the ability to make amends with the person and then make life changes to ensure he doesn’t steal again. This also allows Bob to tell himself that what he DID was wrong and bad and terrible. Bob does NOT believe Bob is wrong and bad and terrible. Guilt allows Bob to condemn his action of stealing, feel bad about it, make amends, then move forward with the intent of following through on his values and belief. Which, in this case, is ‘thievery is wrong’.

Bob also needs to look into why he stole, what his motives were, and so on. Guilt allows him to do that. It gives him the comfort that Bob is a good identity to have, a good person. Simply a person who made a bad decision and now needs to adjust his way of living to align his future actions with his values and beliefs.

 

 

Option B gives Bob a very limited doorway for positivity. This doorway is squeaked open only if Bob realizes he is shaming himself and needs to stop. Then targets his guilt and does the inner work.

If Bob doesn’t do this, and continues to shame himself, his inner monologue goes something like this.

“I stole something. I’m a horrible human being. Who steals from a working, single mother? I’m disgusting. No wonder I’m single, alone, hated, fat, gross, mean, etc. No wonder everyone hates me.” Bob feels disgusted with himself. He feels ashamed of who he is. Bob feels uncomfortable with his own existence and brings up every negative thing about himself, every negative situation, thought, and feeling from his life to back this theory up that Bob is indeed, a horrid excuse of a human being.

Guess was Bob does with this? He hates himself. And will repeat the thieving behavior. And then hate himself more. Rinse and repeat.

Shame keeps us locked in with whatever we hate about ourselves. Shame tells us there is no possibility for change because we are flawed at a basic level and can never be any good.

Shame lies to us and we do nothing to change.

 

Option C is what I’m fairly certain most of us feel.  And our shame smooshes our guilt with a twenty pound dumbbell again and again and again until it’s little more than a twitching inkling in the background of our minds that only further backs up our shame’s reasoning for why we are horrid human beings who deserve to suffer in their horrid human fate because that’s just how life is and we’re all going to die anyway! See option B.

 

We have a choice.

Choose option A.

Seriously.

We all do bad things. We all have and we all will. They’re called mistakes and we instantly recognize we just hurt someone’s feelings or have that liver clenching moment when we realize we forgot our best friend’s birthday.

We all do things wrong. That does not make US bad people. Unless we value hurting people to get ahead. Unless we value chopping people up in little bits. Unless we think it is fun to hurt people, animals, children, etc… we are not bad people.

We make human mistakes because *ahem* we are human. Not robots of unfeeling perfect precision. Thank heaven!

 

When we do things wrong, it is our responsibility to feel our guilt and do something about it for the better.

 

And I KNOW this is hard advice to follow. Three years into a support group and four years into therapy and it’s only now really pinging for me. But it does make sense. I has sunk into my stubborn skull, darting past the negative loops of habit ingrained in my brain.

We can all change for the better.

We have to want to.

And if all we do is shame ourselves, we will never fully believe we are capable and deserving of doing better, of change in the direction we want to go.

 

 

We are deserving. We are valuable. We can change. We can allow our guilt to help us to take a realistic look at our behaviors and spring us into becoming who we want to become. Who we choose to become.

Life is Weird…and Contradictory

So are people.

I know I am.

 

I don’t really understand how I can be really low, totally depressed or suffering AND really optimistic and hopeful, feeling kinda pretty good.

But I can. Doesn’t make a lick of sense.

Humans are a lot more complicated than I think we give ourselves credit for.

If we feel more than one thing – we *must* be crazy, with multiple personality disorder or something. Did you know they changed the name of that disorder quite a while ago, to “dissociative identity disorder” or DID? I wonder why they change the names of things so freaking often and no one seems to know.

Anywho, we can feel a huge range of emotions at once. We can be more than one thing at a time. I don’t know about anyone else, but that’s been a foreign ideal to me before now.

 

I get so tired of people telling me that if I were emotionally unstable, I wouldn’t be able to hide it.

Don’t tell me that.

I am a walking act.

All my painful secrets stay inside.

I haven’t known how I could be anything but ‘happy’ and still feel what I feel, hiding it all the while.

I’m optimistic, I’m hopeful.

But that is not all that I am.

Don’t tell me that if I’m bubbly, smiling, or kind, that I can’t possibly be in pain, physically and emotionally. Don’t tell me, when I open up to you, that this isn’t possible.

Why are people so willing to take everyone at face value and so unwilling to believe that there’s ANYTHING, something, beneath the surface???

I thought I was working on all of this stuff but I found I haven’t even made a dent. I guess getting really sick is good. Health failing obviously equals that something is wrong. It just takes a lot of pain to wake me up.

Then again, I am human. I guess human beings have to realize something over and over again until something pings in just the right way that we’ll believe, too.

 

The holidays ran me over and have been dragging me down lollipop infested roads. So perhaps I’ll have something more to say next month. 😉

On that note, HAPPY HOLIDAYS! Try not to eat yourself to death. Or children. Don’t eat children either.

 

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Steps Forward, Steps Backward

I feel like I’m taking one step forward and two steps back.

Driving me insane!

Well, more insane than I already am, but you get my drift. *twitch* ;D

 

Someone took us to the movies this past week and I really liked the movie. Though it was dark and hopeless at times, the largest overtone and theme of the movie was hope. Basically, the perfect movie for me.

I left the movie and for the first time in a very long time (*ahem* years), I had

*that*

feeling.

 

The one I’m sure all creators know in some way or another.

It’s hard to describe, but I’ll give it a try.

It’s a good, excited, creativeness.

I feel alive. Vitally burning, arms flung wide, begging the world to hear me, to run through me, to guide me, to open me up and let me see again. Not just any world but that world, the one running like a stream through my head and heart, folded inside the contours of my soul. Where the strange and the broken but strong reside. All that I create. The world where I create, come up with ideas, scenarios.

And for one amazing moment, I can fly, I can soar, arms flung wide open to something better than me. Better than pain and all that’s wrong with me.

Where everything is perfect. Where I’m the child who escapes, the writer, the inspired creator who is both realistic and an idealist with her head in the clouds. The Unashamed Creator.

*That* feeling is where I can breathe. I’m passion blazing, where nothing can break me, inspired, confident. Enough. Where I am enough.

And I’m more than enough. I’m me. I can change the world, I can lift the broken and rid the streets of disgust and outrage of the wrongly powerful.

Everything was right as rain. Home.

I was home.

 

stockvault-white-lily125302

 

And then, I clamped down on it.

I’d reached the end of my chains and my conditioned behaviors yanked me back into “reality”.

SHUT UP, DAPHNE! Stop acting like a childish, loser. Get real. Grow up. Be in control of your emotions, feelings, thoughts, wants. None of this wishy – washy, head in the clouds, fantasizing. How stupid that you pretend like a toddler fantasizing in your head. How pathetic. Stand up, be rigid, in control. Be useful.

 

And the feeling – *that* feeling – it was gone.

I realized something right that moment.

I realized something that night.

It saddened me. Now I don’t feel anything in particular about it. But you’ll understand why in a moment.

 

ONE

I realized what I’m really doing by “clamping down” on my “useless emotions”.

I’m telling myself to stop feeling.

The part of me, which is in control, says “shut up, be real, stop dreaming like a child”.

It’s a smoke screen.

Be mean enough and I won’t poke at it, right?

In reality (ironic, right?), I’m telling myself to stop feeling anything. Except – definitely keep feeling shame and wrong for feeling.

When I clamped down on that feeling, I shoved all emotion away. If I look close enough, I can see just how numb I am to everything but pain and self-hate.

 

TWO

When I came home from that movie, something happened- and I have no idea what or how- that allowed me to get past my own walls, find a weak link in my armor, and get through to the life deep inside that I’ve forsaken to solitude and silence.

I found it. I felt alive. I felt real.

But then doubt niggled in.

And when I clamped down on it, a part of me deep down wanted to sob, cry out.

I’d ripped the fire inside out and flung it nowhere in particular. So long as I couldn’t feel its warmth.

I left myself hollow, empty. In pain. Numb.

 

stockvault-orange-lily103441

 

FORWARD

I feel Blank.

No wonder I haven’t written a word, allowed myself to listen to music, or done anything mildly creative in over a month now.

I’m so numb I don’t even see it.

Even now, writing about it. It was only yesterday and yet I can’t remember what it felt like. I’m simply typing what I wrote in my journal yesterday. Eight hours after it happened I couldn’t even remember.

 

How did it happen? How’d it get through? Why?

I’d been particularly vulnerable yesterday, gummy, and easily harmed (enough to make me carry an ax and glare at everyone who came within three feet of me). So was it the vulnerability? Not having that armor up and in perfect condition?

Or was it the combination of darkness and hope in the movie?

Or both?

I don’t know.

But I consider yesterday a win. Not only did it somehow get through, but I recognized it for what it was, realized I’ve been (and continue to) smother any and all inspiration, and identified my need to STOP.

Not that it’s gotten me anywhere. But I have to realize I’m NOT going anywhere before I can START going somewhere. ……. Makes so much sense. 0.o

So, two steps forward and only one back.

Yay me!

 

________________________________

As a side note, I’m really not liking this being honest thing. It sucks, being vulnerable. Don’t like it. One bit.

So be nice to me.

Don’t blow rainbows up my skirt or throw bunnies at me, but don’t try to bash my head into the wall either.

I’ll stab you. Repeatedly.

😀

 

Any creative types know what on earth I’m going on about? What does “that feeling” feel like to you?

Anybody else feel stuck wobbling on the steps?

I’M BACK! (Hotel Hell #5)

I… am….. ALIVE!!

No. I did not die.

I know you probably wondered if I got run over by a bus, drug through the desert and eaten by carrion, but I assure you, I did not.

The last time I had access to internet was on April 3rd. My laptop died. Every attempt at resuscitation failed. Epically… obviously. The library computers were shut down. Then they wouldn’t load anything. No one lives close to us whose computer will load things like WordPress or yahoo. I WAS DYING!!!!! Writer with no internet here!

R.I.P.

R.I.P.

 

 

I got a laptop as a surprise on August 10th. WOOHOOO! So…. You’ve missed a lot and not all of it was good. But that’s okay, I’m not dead – I’m stronger, better off for it. But 5 months is a long time when it comes to 1 blog post. It will definitely take more than one post to get it all out. Here goes…

 

First things first, multiple files on my flashdrive were corrupted. I plugged in my backup flashdrive to save what I could and the corrupted files transferred to the backup flashdrive! So I yanked the first one, wiped it, and plugged in the second one, and wiped the bad files. All in all, I lost three folders – my blog folder, my photo folder, and my critique folder.

Let me translate this: AAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I lost all my photos I’d taken in the past 8 months. And I’d lost all the critiques I’d done. One in particular irks me beyond words. I’d promised this individual to read and critique his MS two times prior and couldn’t. This time, I’d read it, loved it, critiqued as I went, and wrote up my end thoughts and opinion. And it’s GONE!

I lost all the posts I’d written. That means, February, March, and April’s Hotel Hell posts? Gone.

IMG_4195
Flashdrive with corrupted files…NOT good.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Because of this, this post is probably out of order in a few places.

 

– I read “On Writing” by Stephen King finally! I’ve been waiting for a year to get a hold of a copy and I loved it! Definitely helped me on multiple points. Maybe I’ll do up a post on it. Maybe.

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– We got an air conditioner for our room! Now we’re not melting. Woohoo!

– The manager gave us adorable blinds! She’s just that cool.

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– Holly pulled the ligaments in her thumb.

– We got shelves to put all our stuff on, instead of piling it all on the ground.

– Holly got a plant. It died. She got another one, and named her Viper, the spider plant. Viper is doing very well.

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– The last day of school for my mallow minions (aka my sister, Holly and my brother, Dylan) (and yes they like and approve of this nickname) was May 24th. Summer Break began…..

– The first month of their summer break I was extremely boring. Why? I had an intestinal virus for four weeks. That’s four weeks of extreme abdominal pain, nausea, and dizziness. NOT. FUN.

– Dylan’s birthday was July 15th. He turned 11 years old.

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– I’ve read lots of books by new authors and some in different genres. And guess what? I’m more picky than I originally thought I was! But that’s okay. The books I don’t like, I’ve taken back to the book exchange. So even if I don’t like them, it wasn’t a complete loss.

– Dylan got a ficus trees.

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– Mom’s birthday is August 11th – today! Happy birthday momma. 😀

– My mallows wounded themselves while creating art. Beauty hurts, they agree.

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– I have been informed (by Holly) that it is mandatory I tell you of her obsession with the Maximum Ride Series by James Patterson as of late. She loves it but is very unhappy with how the series ended.

– I got a baby jade plant, named her Moira, after the collective 3 Greek Fates. She needs to be replanted, she’s not actually in the pot here, but in a smaller planter leaning inside the one you can see.

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– Lucky tried eating Holly’s cupcake pillow.

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– Oh, and our fridge door fell off.

 

On a more serious note, we’re still living in the hotel, but we almost ended up on the street three times. Each time we were saved by positive attitudes, a lot of hope and work, and kindness. There’s been an abundance of drama and emotional angst. As a result, my writing hasn’t moved forward much. Not to mention the two months of summer break, in which – I have siblings, so I need to pay attention to them and not sit in a corner and type – we did many things together daily.

You already know I finished my rough draft of HUMAN OR HIDDEN. I’ve finished critiquing the first 8 chapters of it so far, I’m about ¼ of the way through, being on about page 100 of about 400. Then I need to go through and fix all the things I’ll find while critiquing. Then I can send it out to be critiqued, which I’m totally excited for!

I’m excited to get back to writing. I’ve missed it. A lot.

I’ve missed logging onto Twitter and being inspired by everyone’s tweets! I’ve missed reading your blogs and talking to you! I missed your opinions on my blog posts! I’ve missed you all so much.

 

So what have I missed in the past 5 months?

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the Urge to Zombie

Have you ever had one of those weeks? No – months, yeah.

You ever had one of those months?

You know – where you’re scattered. All over the place. Here, there, a bit behind that tree over there too, down the street?

Up, down, sideways, crooked, this way, that way, upside down and oh – inside out maybe.

Your mind’s on this and your mind’s on that and you’re being pulled into eighty thousand pieces all at once. And you haven’t the foggiest clue as to which way is correct.

 

 

 

 

 

Continue reading “the Urge to Zombie”