10.20 free write

I have so very much to be grateful for I know

Means to survive and more but it doesn’t seem to show

On my face or in my soul

When each day I wake to remind myself this all

Tell myself to rise upon the new with a better attitude

But feel it’s ties so strong that I don’t know what to do

Was it all written or just a bad decision

That I waste my life away in an old abandoned prison

In a World getting so small

It’s hard to remember

What it felt like at all

To invest or at least bet

the fragmented heart that’s left in my chest

I can’t even guess where to start

But I’m first to bet the rest of the road hard

As it was from the beginning

And there never was any way of winning

Like a steep precipice or being trapped beneath the ice

And everybody’s got their own holy advice

Take it or cast away, but if you do

They’ll assume the worst of you

I would put it on them

Just to make them understand

That I didn’t choose this, I had better fucking plans

And disability doesn’t dismiss responsibility

As if I’m enjoying myself having become someone else

Or devised in advance my device for an easy hand

But who’s qualified to decide if I’m doing all I can

But the one who’s suffering the consequences?

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10.19 

Eleven days, was all that it was supposed to take

It occurred to me, perhaps that’s why it’s all just a waste

Insidious it crept for me to get there

It took that long to get, or even be made aware

This is the price that I pay evermore

To the very last cent which I cannot afford

For a crime that stares from my eyes each night

But we all wait, no matter who’s wrong or right

I am foolish, unsurpassedly and so

Five bitter and slow, thirty- five more to go

No time taken for good behavior

I lie shaken and there are no saviors

For who can really resist the hand of punishment

It doesn’t feel as justice, but nothing can or ever did

And my spirit has become this very barren desert

As I hear for what’s been done I carry as I deserve

I feel everything and nothing in the very same, hidden just beneath thin skin 

I sever all of what remains, and breathe in the dust to begin

So I’ll smile again, fake it and face up to fate

Because all of these feelings are only relative anyway

And if they inquire as to why

I’ll probably lie 

that everything and I 

am just fine.

10.18 free write

Passion and color a memory held

Of the highs and lows I’ve always felt

Ever reaching to more

Never knowing what for

I heard a rumor that some though

Are truly content with the status quo

How can they feel so little

Who defines what’s normal

When we each can only see through 

What’s always been known to you

Or are we all just small voices locked inside

Under a lock and key no one can really find

Don’t doubt that it’s heard

The faintest whisper, the dying words

Of a faded heart, desensitized and overstigmatized

It’s got to start again, but how or even why

When there’s no way above, only in circles here below

And we all know of how most things here go

But oh so familiar and another settled far too low

Who can remember color as it was so long ago?

10.17 free write

Sometimes it’s hard to believe You’re even still there

When it doesn’t really seem You hear my earnest prayer 

What can I give, how much more can I beg

To convince You to listen, to show me the end

Tirelessly my soul calls out from the ground

While these words are nothing, they’re all I have now

I have naught for my countenance

But the breath within my lungs

how long shall I account for this

How long must I press on

For no reason and no sound

And No Changing Seasons now

What’s been and to come are equivocally dead

You see all that’s been done and know what lies ahead

So why do You keep me for another

Why did even You bother

If I was born only to suffer

How could I call you Father

I know Your ways are not ours

So this torment may be my thorn

They say You just want our heart

But I don’t have one anymore

Let me die one last time

For a thousand I have before

Hear my cry through every night

And know that I fought the war

And known no pleasure only pain

You give without measure but mostly take away

No thing can ease my burden

This You have assured

But blameless, as none can question what You set with a single word

But how could a Father

Permit my life in vain

That You’re okay with wasting decades and teaching only pain

What you allow or permit

Now that’s all there really is

All this misery within

And Disappointment’s death wish

My life is nothing to me

And gratitude evades

Hemmed in, four walls surrounding

Where nothing seems to ever change

What do You expect me to do

When I live in a torture

With no future to look forward to

Why have You let me go through

What most can neither imagine nor understand

Who knows if I deserve this hand? 

It’s been no short time that I’ve waited and hoped and prayed

All my young life, but known only bitter taste

Let me know sleep

Let me know dreaming

The kind that never ends

Only You see

Only I mean it

When I say I am Forsaken again. 

10.8

The prescription is written for loneliness 

For I know a few who could use some of it

A pill to kill the things we feel

The chilling empty at the end of the day

there’s a will to fake a thing to fill it

But it rushes through in waves

All we can do is continue to try to push it away each day forward

As we suffer it all in one accord

But it’s set to fall with nothing to show for it

Sentenced to live in circles with no understanding given

Tell me if there’s purpose or is it just standard living

It gets so fucking old so unimaginably fast 

When all’s expendable and life’s just speeding past

Like we’re wandering the desert with nothing left to hope

Because forty years came and went a long, long time ago

Two steps away from doing as the rest and whatever I want

After all the wait it seems if you’re not depressed you’re probably living wrong

Or you’re going to hell for enjoying yourself

But I guess there’s a tradeoff for everything else

When I see no good befall those whom I know deserve it of all

And we all know life’s not fair, but a bitch that deals despair 

But it’s hard to keep in care when there’s far too much delay

Perhaps my attitude is wrong but there’s not much else I can say

So still we press on to another frigid dawn

With nothing to hold in our hands

All together but separate for a purpose we will never forget nor understand. 
 

P.58 

        Shawna had evidently been spending more and more time on our facility the last couple months, so it was within the hour that I was called into her office with no reasonable defense for my actions other than a childish outburst I had coming.  

“You know this kind of behavior I should discharge you. Then where are you going to live? I think you know this was immature and unacceptable.”

       “Of course I do. I never do anything with my anger. It was extremely uncharacteristic, but I have no excuses.” I didn’t fight her on this one. 

“I swear, anyone else and they would be gone so fast their head would spin, but that’s what you want. But You know most people here want to be here…but I’m not going to just let you go home to keep doing what you were doing.”

        “I didn’t exactly do anything with the intention of getting kicked out for bad behavior, I was unaware that was an option. So you’re not kicking me out?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed, no I’m not- only because I talked to sherice and she said you don’t usually do these sorts of things. Actually, she was even a bit excited that you had finally taken out your anger on something other than yourself.”

    I was silent. 

“No more impulsively wrecking things. I can’t dismiss one more thing or people will start to believe they can get away with anything around here. Do we have an agreement?”

      “Yes, we do concur.”

She even had written up a contract for me to sign- she loved those things. 

“Now that pass isn’t happening for at least another month.”

       “That’s fair.”

“Your Jacob will have to wait,” she continued. “Though I still do not condone your continuing communications- much less meeting. I think it’s a terrible idea and just the little of your conflicts and conversations you’ve relayed, I think he’s going to undo everything I’ve been trying to work on with you.”

         “Thanks for your concern, but I can manage myself the imminent destruction of my limited interpersonal relationships,” I laughed. “I know I have no business in a relationship, but you know nothing lasts, so let me at least see where it goes; I usually never care about anyone, and he’ll be the last guy whose time I’ll ever waste again. ”

“Relationships aren’t a waste- I just think he in particular is damaging for your fragile condition. You already hate yourself, and he seems to be perpetuating that.”

          “Still. The older I get I think I’m realizing that I just don’t like being around people. But I’m not that fragile when it comes to heartbreak. I’ve got bigger problems than the trivial fear of ‘ending up alone’.” Big deal, I’ve already come to terms with that I’m going to be the crazy old lady living up on a mountain with a bunch of bats, or crows, or hell, maybe I’ll just go straight for the shotgun approach.”

“You just keep telling yourself that, but you don’t know yourself at all. I think you care a lot and are terrified of another rejection. That’s why you’re walking on eggshells, tolerating his shaming tactics, and hiding every part of you but what you think he won’t accuse.” 

        “I’m glad you know all about him.” I countered. 

and you defend him…”she concluded.      “but that’s not what I wanted to get into this evening. I have an assignment for discussion. I’d like you to reflect on how your eating disorder has negatively affected your life throughout the years, and try to come up with some new coping mechanisms.”

         I laughed and couldn’t help but roll my eyes a bit, “Sorry, but ‘coping mechanisms’ don’t work. I think if they did I would have been able to make at least one work by now. You should know it just doesn’t work like that. That’s all just a different kind of misery.”

“They can’t work if you don’t want them to.”

        “But if the problem were so easy as to will a distraction mechanism to work better- as though I haven’t tried- it wouldn’t be such an issue would it? But how it’s affected my life? For starters I would preface any lame- ass answer with the fact that foremost: from the outside, I know it’s all fucking retarded.”

“See you’re doing it again-”

         “Come on, I mean who can’t figure out how to properly feed themselves? It’s objectively insane and I understand why most people don’t get it or why it’s so fucking hard; maybe like a migraine- you don’t know what it feels like unless you’ve had one. It’s been by far the worst and best thing that’s ever happened to me; I mean it had its benefits up until a certain age… other than a long hospitalization, It was just fine up until my early twenties where everything changes all over again and you spend a decade trying to readapt to something that will change again by the time you’ve got your head anywhere near the surface in regards to figuring out how to balance it with your life. I managed to cope just fine most of that time; while balancing work, school, a relationship, and maintain my personal peace and sanity; all that normal shit. It’s normal if you’re a teenage girl- but still struggling even worse with it a decade later is just fucking embarrassing. I can’t even live my life.”

“Well it is true that at a certain age it stops ‘working’ the way it used to; and these things do get worse with age if you can’t overcome the insistence on unattainable ideals.”

       “No shit. I’d rather eat a bullet than live another decade into this.”

P.57

        I likely didn’t last another two turns before my thoughts grew too persistent and undeniable to not show evidence on my face. 

        “Actually, can you guys leave- please?” I covered my face, and tried my best to be polite. 

“But we’re supposed to be-” 

       “Please just fucking leave. I’m sorry… I’m afraid I’m going to be awful today. It’s a worse than the usual ‘not a good time”. I turned to look out the window, I hated crying in front of people. 

“Look honey, she’s an adult. If she doesn’t want to see us right now, we should leave,” dad conceded.

“OK. If you need your space, I guess that’s OK. I won’t take it personally.” mom said, entirely unconvincing. 

“Well before you kick us out,” dad pulled a bible out of his briefcase. “I figured you could use one- to go alongside the devil books you brought.”

       “Thanks.” The last thing I wanted to see was a bible. 

He set it on the end table beside the alarm clock as they painfully slowly got up to leave.

          I grabbed the book and returned to the back bedroom. My head had been pounding with the pain in my neck and all throughout my body since just after getting up. It seemed the days with no cessation of the nagging pain had been increasing in frequency. Jacob and I constantly tense and fighting didn’t help , but we were still planning to meet up sometime next week because Shawna had mentioned potentially giving me a pass. But even that, I wasn’t sure how I really felt about – other than nervous as hell because at the same time that I felt so strongly about him, he also made me extremely uncomfortable- like he was always waiting to pounce on something I said and pick it apart and throw it back in my face; and I didn’t feel qualified to tell what of what he said was true tough love, or just straight up cruel. I guessed we’d see how it went then, but I didn’t have high hopes considering how it felt like nothing good or even remotely enjoyable had happened in life in years. In fact, in retrospect it almost seemed a bit too coincidental the order of events in which I lost my job, schooling and career hopes, relationships,  independence, and then health- which had been continually degrading and affecting everything else. I had a roof, food, and water when my parents let me live there- so I had that going for me- but most of the time it felt like I had lost a firm grip on even my mind, constantly falling through the spaces of each day in an unsettling and unsure free fall; so I would easily have given away such life – preserving substances to someone who would at least enjoy life sometimes. I had nothing to go home to anyways but to keep  suffering, medicating, and rotting away in the routine of a responsibly selected solitude to save myself and everyone else from the futility of interaction. 

          I flipped through the bible, thinking how I already knew what it said and didn’t care to read anything. I had felt that way for too long, feeling guilt for it. Job was onto something, as well as Solomon in Ecclesiastes- but other than that I could only relate to Jonah beneath his little tree, asking to die- only I didn’t know where I was supposed to be going or what I was to be doing- I just survived and wandered on  purposelessly. Maybe God was making me wander the desert for 40 years for my bad attitude- and a thousand years may be as a day to Him- but I sure didn’t have that long, and 40 years would put me just about on my deathbed. But with my bad luck I just might live to a hundred. 

         I decided to try the cliche of setting the bible on its spine and letting it fall open, of which I then focused on a random section of the page. I recognize the bible wasn’t intended to be used as a magic 8 ball, but I had some questions- that was for damn sure. Not that I at all considered myself “righteous”, but  it only took Job 7 days to curse his birth, and I’d waited well over seven years. 

          “Why? Why did all of this befall on me? Why did I lose so much and everything that really meant anything to me? Why do I keep losing more, and why don’t you put me out of my misery? Why?”

The book fell open and my eyes first fell upon the red letters of John 13 verse 7

        “Jesus replied, ‘You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.”

I was silent for a minute. “but isn’t that what You said a decade ago? I don’t have forty years to wait and wander, I’m wasting my life now.” 

          I was still angry- not angry at God, He didn’t owe me shit- but at myself and everything else; but I was basically in a perpetual bad mood. I just never did anything with it. I got up and walked over to the window, pacing back and forth for some time. I’m not even sure why there was a hammer there- I guess a worker left it there- but not even thinking about it, I grabbed the hammer and slammed it down the middle of the open Venetian blinds, and through the drywall. And something snapped that I’d been ignoring for long enough- I shattered every last piece of the blinds to splinters, and lodged the hammer back in the wall again. I tore out the  dresser drawers, hurled the few books I had brought at the wall, and sunk back down into the bed, catching myself before I went to hell for chucking a bible again. I laid down, letting it slip from my hands onto the floor. 

          Marisa walked in, pausing in the hallway entrance to give me a look that said “My lips are sealed but I wash my hands clean of this,” and turning right back around to leave. 

         “I need an answer now, not in another ten or forty years…” I  muttered. 

Of course I was surprised to happen to open to such a potentially applicable verse, but I believed that my life had been about paying for something I had done wrong- or was going to- and God or fate had nothing to do with it. Maybe that was why I was still on this planet. 

        I got up and picked up the few  things I had uncharacteristically and foolishly thrown- as though it would do anything to hide the damage I had done to the blinds and wall- and picked the bible off the ground, with a small laugh to see that when it had fallen face down, it had opened to the first page of Job. I guessed that was a decent place to start reading for as long as I was going to continue living in the stomach of a whale. 

****