3.9 free write

It’s so heavy on my chest that I can barely take a breath, but for all of my endurance it never hurts any less

Like suffocating for weeks on end in the spaces between those two breaths

Withering spirit inside exhausted, my mind is ever either high or hypoxic

Stuck on a ride I can never get off of, getting harder to hide just how bad that I’ve gotten

And I’m sorry to my mother and my father and every other person who ever even bothered

All those years ago they said that it would get better when she was older, if she wasn’t bipolar, or at least that’s what the doctors all told her

But she never really did improve, now look at what the years tend to do

When did life get so hard so fast, I guess the good parts were never meant to last

Like I’m living in hell all alone, but you can still tell more lies down below

And the fear grips about my neck and I can’t say what I need before I forget

I’ve never felt this way before so I can’t fabricate a way forward

I should try to talk to someone but the words just won’t seem to come

And I’m angry and I’m thinking of all the ways I could sink me

Down to the bottom at last so the falling could at long pass

And I don’t think they see just how violent these things can be

Because I already feel like I’ve died a thousand times, every time I rise just to face the same goodbyes

To all hope or peace or any future worth knowing, though try try try again it’s not worth the fight in the end

Not for all the torment when my mind permits no rest, waging war on my flesh and bone, sealing in my regrets

I feel so fucking old so how can I believe in something new, when nothing I have seen or been told are anything but bitter truths

I see it within and around, not knowing how they manage to live it out now

and I say the same old things day after day, but I didn’t know I could feel so afraid

Like being trapped beneath the surface, and you can’t breathe but most other people seem just perfect

And further I go the more I understand what I didn’t want to know, the why’s or the how’s some have chosen to go

To jump from a high precipice in favor of facing a present abyss

Just wanting the feeling to go away, if you find there’s no healing and it’s all the same

And it’s pressing me down so threateningly now that I fear it shall be the way I go out

God has departed, as I thought when I started and the lie of hope is a bird that has flown so far away from me, my heart has ceased beating

And failed for despair; who can save now, do I even care

When my heart is a tomb of which whom may exhume?



I feel so numb and overcome that I’ve nothing to say but the redundant words of a child too lost to think straight

I hate everything and every fucking thing brought by every day

Its all the same dumb stuff and I’ve wasted my fucks, run out of patience and I’ve given up

I don’t know I care to try anymore, I can’t feel anything but hopelessness hate and scorn

With a fire that burns so hot who’d dare to look upon, perhaps I’m not the person you thought but still I just go on and on and on

With all of this gnawing inside, I swallow it back down to hide

Because one little spark and they’re scared, having seen not even the smallest part, unaware and unprepared

But I pray the flames will finally kill me because I’m finding I’m weary and unwilling

oh god aren’t you so sick of my bitching, but it doesn’t really matter as the decision is I’m ditching

Most every fucking one, there’s nothing left undone

I don’t belong though maybe I’m wrong on just a couple of points, but for everything done I hope no one’s disappointed

That I’d cast it all into the sea, in a fucking heartbeat, for all I feel inside is that there’s nothing but debris

And hate and misery and pain and all of my own stupid fucking distain

That I just couldn’t get over, that I just couldn’t be stronger, but now that it’s known, I can’t continue any longer

Maybe it’s I’ve been off the meds for too long, but deep inside it says they can’t save me of what I’m running from

Like I was just a fucking loaded gun or a time bomb ticking from the moment I had begun

So I’ll save all my drama, of this inexplicable trauma and say that there’s none who can pull me back from what I’ve become

Fuck everything that was or will be, I’m so fucking done and I’ve become the enemy

Who can bring me back from the rubble when I live my fucking life trapped within this bubble

I just wanted to feel anything or anyone else, but in the end only destroyed myself

I hate myself so I tried to change, but in this hell I’m left with what I hate, disgust and discord, and mistrusting because I couldn’t afford

Anyone to call it but the one who had to feel and deal with all the shit, fall back and the consequences, all that left me so defenseless

Because you’re right, they don’t understand it, though maybe they once too might have been handed all this hatred, but I never could stand it

I can’t fucking take this anymore, but taking it is all I’ve got and there’s nothing to look forward

Who I once was has become just one with the mud, invisible to all but a trained eye from above

And I will disappear as I have a little more with every passing year

So let’s try to make something to feel inside and remember back, because when comes Time it’s likely all we can ever have.

Free Rant- a little about the calling crow

I keep thinking that I should at least try to write something, if at least for the sake of attempting to organize my thoughts or what’s going on; but it’s as though I would rather do anything else, So that I may continue to grossly dissociate as means to get by at the expense of my seemingly deteriorating cognitive and emotional coherence… So here goes nothing, something new because I don’t give two shits about poetry lately, And have probably spoken in veiled riddles, symbolism, and not-so-fictitious characters and analogy for long enough; To the ironic end that really nobody knows precisely what I’m talking about other than an exhaustive anthology of bitching, complaining, and telling parts of the truth that despite its validity still sound melodramatic.

But by no new occurrence, I’ve come to a place in my life where I have quit therapy after over three years, and essentially lost or cut out every person that I even casually associated with. Though partly for the reason that I’ve been living staring down the precipice of non-specific irrational freak outs, which I don’t want any person to bear the brunt of, trigger, or even really witness. So here I find myself with a blog that I have many times of late considered deleting entirely, and a bunch of strangers that I suppose I could talk at for the sake of attempting to keep myself at least emotionally afloat on the driftwood that I’ve been lost down this fucking river on for years and years now. I had a dream that it ended; the floating, the waiting- everyone thought I was dead, including myself. But that relief never really came, Not after so much waiting and so much hoping to find hope to hope for.

So who am I? Other then some lady whose mind thanks in fragments of disastrous sentiments arranged in such semblance as to feign rationality..?

I just turned 26, so just shyly no longer in my early 20s – basically at the point that I thought that I would have some of my shit sorted out by now or at least created some kind of system to work for myself to get by. I live with my parents who patiently house and support me financially, though I do contribute a small sum via disability that I was able to obtain a year ago after three or four years of fighting for it. I have been unable to work since November of 2012, For idiopathic petite mal seizures; and not long after that time did I find that my entire life began to dismantle right down to the very health of my bones and mind, as though it were some written curse. Since that time in the events that occurred soon after, I have maintained a life of near complete solitude from any person but said therapist once or twice a week- Of which I felt that I was honestly paying just to listen to me as I have no hope that they could offer any solution or anything that I haven’t myself realized or tried, even risking sounding arrogant. I’ve done many, many years of therapy, with multiple intensive inpatient hospitalizations lasting months at a time. And I found these things to be of no help either, eventually developing a proclivity for finding more interest in a psychotherapist’s personal life than my own. I eventually came to the conclusion that I would have to find my own answers, make my own way, create my own solutions that had never been done before for a constellation of problems that I have yet to hear of another having before. And perhaps I did find some of those answers after all those years of denial and kicking against the goads, And they definitely were not the answers I had hoped to find, though it was of no surprise.

Beside mental health issues- namely major depression and anxiety disorder since the age of 14- I’ve seen hundreds of doctors and accumulated tens of thousands of dollars of debt for persistent, mysterious health crises that have also contributed to my not living in the world; for the past five or six years now I have had no part in it because I rarely feel well enough to leave the house. I’ve had problems with my heart, my liver, kidneys, stomach, digestive system, endocrine system, And most other organs to varying degrees. One particular instance, going into the first stages of liver failure, and top LA endocrinologists could not tell me why. That was some five years ago, back before I could’ve ever imagined what my life would become today, back before I wanted to die and actively sought the means for it. So I prayed to God, I asked him to spare my life, and that I would do what it was He wanted me to do on this planet. Well God did spontaneously heal my liver, to the surprise of the doctors who basically told me to get out of their office because they don’t believe in God. Well that was all fine and great except for the fact that later I felt like I got tricked because I had no idea what the future held, Or that I would so deeply long that God had let me die. Sparing the details of a daunting history, it has only been proposed time and time again that these endless maladies and other enigmatic phenomena could be related to an abdominal surgery I had as a young kid- oddly enough the first memory I have in life, my brother handing me this plushy red ladybug and then the nauseating bubblegum anesthesia.

Now for one of the many facets that is a bit more humbling to admit, that I have struggled with anorexia since I was 15 years old and still do to this day- to a much more severe degree than anyone in my life is knowledgeable of. People knew this about me in essentially my past life, when I was surprisingly functional- but now it is a less obvious secret of mine as the development of hypothyroid in my early 20s has kept me at a more normal weight without having to eat. People don’t worry about me anymore for reason of my outward appearance, and that’s exactly how it should be; I think telling anyone that I am so tormented by an eating disorder to be quite embarrassing as the words typically bring to mind much more alarmingly gaunt figures than the reality of the many other people walking around who too have this demon. In over a decade of dealing with this every single day, it’s worse than when I started and honestly the foremost reason why I seek to die; Like an inescapable hell personalized just for you or a nightmare that can never be woken up from. I am fully aware of the countless people who have recovered- having seen, known, and been in treatment with- But don’t frankly prescribe to the notion that “anyone can recover”, Because as fanfuckingtastical And magical that sounds, if it were actually true, no one would ever die of an eating disorder. And this is terrible to say but this is my space and my only allowance to be egotistical-I sometimes wonder If anyone would be surprised if I was one of them, Because I’ve been basically starving myself for a few years now, This year still even worse. And yes I’ve been in treatment. Again and again and again and again. And I feel fucking pathetic.

So there, I said it. I’m not better in that respect, or with depression or with managing to acquire a more positive attitude. Now I realize that common sense would immediately suggest that perhaps an eating disorder is the reason why I have all these health issues- granted I’ll give you this as at least contributory, but in my experience I have found these issues unrelated and have no patience for wasting time defending myself on such grounds.

So where am I going with all of this other than just blindly ranting… All this to say that It’s been a very very long time, an equally toilsome road, and for all of it I feel now even further away from where I need to be than when I started all those years ago. The last remaining parts of the little girl me for so long subconsciously held onto the belief that somehow God would make it all OK in the end, that things would get better, or that there would be a reason for the loss of my young life or for my I’ll just call immense suffering- but ultimately I fear that the free will granted to each of us has and shall continue to impede my ability to correct whatever mistakes I am making again and again to end up where I have in life or what I am evidently deserving of- All for reason that I realize I am simply not strong enough. Not anymore. I’ve been Strong, but I’m tired. And in more pain than I’ll bother trying to convey.

So what prompted me to even write or rant about any of this in the first place as opposed to the usual vague poetry; that after some time of getting into one of my dark dark places, having been in chronic pain of a long “fibromyalgia” flare up, knowing that I’ve been in pain every single day for a couple years now, in the middle of an chemically abysmal depression, riddled with anxious terrors, And ultimately hopeless that any of these or undisclosed matters will ever improve – I had come to the place of more seriously contemplating another suicide attempt. I had planned to get some Nembutal, at least for insomnia, and knowing my abnormal metabolism of medications, at least try and work up the courage to take too much. Confessedly I’ve already been misusing various prescriptions and whatnot for a while now, for various needs, but rather hoping that I’ll give myself a heart attack, but somehow always being fine. Like I’m a coward and keep thinking that perhaps if I can get a drug with high enough risk factors that something bad will happen and I won’t be charged for suicide. Foolish thoughts like that. Every day, all the time.

And looking at everything I’ve emotionally vomited here just rather pisses me off because it does absolutely no justice to expressing the half of it or just how fucking done I’ve been with life for a while now. I’m done with being sick and in chronic physical pain, dealing with irrational and unpredictable mental illness, and I’ve come to the point that I can’t live one more god-forsaken stupid fucking shit day in a cage of a body that kills me everyday for reason of the emotional suppression of its not being dead. My choices and freedom lost to me- and all this useless wasted time, the only reason I have not more firmly pursued the means of my quietus is that I have learned much enough to know that there is no rest in death, that we indeed walk in the Lesser Darkness, and that that which is to follow for some is unspeakable and who has visited it and remained the same?

I do believe that I have had the taste of the kind of suffering that few will understand and cannot be explained with words. I have known the company of demons. I have been to insanity and back and now, all I want is rest. Quiet forever. A refuge away from myself and all the clamorous nonsense of doing and fretting over stupid, stupid shit that has frayed my nervous system to a complete breakdown. But life never stops coming, it never stops taking, it never stops draining, I never refill, I’ve been on empty for so long a time; the longer I stay here, the more sure it seems to be my fate, perhaps even in the next life if I can’t feign some kind of fucking gratitude that I was given breath in this world to suffer with most of them somewhere thereafter a young age that’s already gone by forever.

So this is me here to be so bold as to say that this world is full of good things, good people, and opportunities for those with the strength to get them; but it’s also full of misfortune, suffering unquenchable and so deep no words can express, full of disconnect, isolation, and torture; such that the good is nowhere near frequent nor enduring enough- if you can even feel such pleasures- that the suffering is worth enduring just to stay and hope something good will happen some day and be your fucking needle in a haystack of the innumerable hopes fallen through. And I’m no fool to wait around for that shit anymore.

I never could have seen any of this coming. I never could have imagined all that I would lose and how everything I held dear would change, taken from me. I never could have fathomed what it feels like to practically rather put a bullet in your head than wake up in the morning; or that my own body would become the inescapable prison of my torment. But here I am- funny how that works- by now perhaps the most tough, cynical, bitter bitch around… And it’s ironic… I am my shadow now, because I wasn’t always what I am today. Now I’m just another sad calling crow.

1.17 free write

Me, myself, and the drugs make three

All pretty fucked up but you can’t always change things

Some things just are

But that’s not all,

I know that there’s beauty in this world that still remains

But days like today all I can feel’s the pain

I’ve been weaving a web of lies and don’t know how to make it better

I’ve been thinking about it a long time and decided to write this letter

Sometimes intricate deception is really only a method of protection

I’m tired and done with being pushed around

I’ve learned these lessons, I’m no longer a child now

You think you know best, and I candidly welcome your suggestion

But when you push and overstep you’re tempting my aggression

Call me the most stubborn bitch around

But it’s because I’ve lived it out

That when I follow others decisions for me, in the end

I’m then the one left with the damage to mend

Wasting more of my time, losing my ground, just toiling away to make up for it now

You don’t even know me, I’m not your fucking kid

Do you really believe I’ve no knowledge of what I did?

I’m fully aware and waiver the risks and I really don’t care even if it did

Were not all a textbook case, so take a step back for the next look made

Because you weren’t there

It’s not like this mess occured in a year

You can reiterate how something should or should not be a certain way

Or this is that and how that’s just a matter of fact- but it doesn’t always work like that

Sometimes there’s simply a price to pay for any benefit in the necessary way

And its a cost of which I’m willing it’s wage

I don’t have to justify to you

Why I decide what I do

You can’t just walk right in all incidental and expect me to throw away all my accomplishment, albeit incremental

I don’t believe in miracles anymore, I’ve believed too many times to failure before

If you can help, show me

But don’t expect me to leap off cliffs with no knowing

Does God talk you? Maybe He does me too- but I wonder who’s hearing who?

I’ve come to a place in my life where I’m not gonna wait for anything twice

And for more than an hour long, for no one now but God

This is my answer to your questions, having run out of patience

I make no demands but that you sequester your expectations.

1.15 free write

What do I do when even the smallest hope I had falls through

There’s nothing left to hold on to

I thought there could be something for me

Turns out I’m deceived if I believe there can be anything but misery

I don’t understand what You’re putting me through

As if I can really talk back to ask why You do as You do

Maybe I’m holding on in vain to what I only believe is safe

Maybe my perspective has grown myopic

so subjective I don’t even see my own options

But it feels like I’ve already tried most everything else

Just so that I can hide and delay facing my hell

And when I think I descry a distant glimmer of light

Its quickly stolen away, leaving me nothing in its place

But the long past so full of tormenting memories

That I’ll never have back, but for the thorn of its haunting entity

Do I lie, so unlike me, just to try and keep what’s left inside me

Maybe I’m wrong, but I may be right, maybe it’s too far gone for me to save my life

And I’m looking up so maladjusted, just thinking of how I’ve never trusted

Anyone but myself, because they tried but couldn’t help

It always looks hopeless at the end, and that no one will ever know me again

Do my eyes not see right, as I’m wasting all my time

Do I recall correct, or do my assessments tend to forget

Maybe they’re right, that I’m just afraid to see, I may be terrified but could you really blame me

No I don’t think they know me

I want to get better, not just settle

I want to get closer, not just over

I want to disappear, to leave all my fears right here

But buried so deep within my skin, all of these secrets, I’d never let them in

I’ve got to ascend to higher heights, challenge the limits of my mind

But all in the same, somewhere I’ve lost my flame, and I don’t really care for continuing this game

When I’m so disillusioned and confused and all my solutions just end up losing

I’m sorry that it’s so hard for me to believe that the past so far could ever stop its repeat

I need You to show me this, I need You to remember

That of everywhere I’ve been, I’ll ever see a new December.

1.14 free write

I never really know what to do

Because dreams don’t usually ever come true

Sometimes it doesn’t matter what you get or how hard you try

You can jump from any ledge but aren’t guaranteed to fly

I’m running in circles just hoping for a change someday that maybe isn’t even meant for me

Maybe it’s always been my time but I don’t have the strength to change my mind

For all the same hurts and disappointment

Perhaps I’ll never become what I remember I had once been

It seems too far from my reach

It’s getting so hard and quite boring

Expending so much energy just to stay in the same place

Trying so hard, ending up back at the start, and wanting nothing at all anymore in my heart

I’m fine, it’s just another day

But inside I can’t let go of what I pray

For a miracle, or something meaningful

To make up for all I have lost, and there’s a lot

I want so to change, that I don’t recognize my own face

I want to be taken away so far from this place

Too sick to stay but too tired to leave

These useless behaviors no longer achieve

Anything worth having, there’s nothing to gain

And for all of this sadness, I’m the only one I blame

But so are all our curses, I don’t know how they make it worth it

When it tortures me all of the time

Getting more towards an end that’s like dying

What’s to do next with all this revelation and reflection

Now that I realize my best isn’t enough to change my direction?

10.26 Free Write

Do you ever feel empty and you just don’t know why

Like something inside is missing that you can’t identify

Just going through life’s motions

Looking for emotion

Yet too afraid to try

I know I need to reach for something

something more than I can see

But I can’t say why I always slide right back to apathy

All the reasons that I have to never look back

but the seasons still just pass, time that I can never have

Again, How can so much exist in a person full of emptiness

I know you feel it too, though it comes and goes, as most things do

All searching for another just to pull us from the rubble

of all the dreams we had before, and the things that we can’t feel anymore

I can hold so high but fall and fail all at the very same time

Who can imagine each of our reasons why

I know it sweeps through and steals everything from you

But sometimes we look and can finally see the truth

That each moment that we have to make is all that ever will remain

So ask yourself what it is today you want to take, create, and leave in the wake

Because the sands fall slow, but there’s only so much more time to go.