So, what news? Today my confidence in this blog is faltering. I write for me, to heal, to let go, to send it out into the ether. Sometimes it might be ‘good’, literary even, sometimes it’s drivel, sometimes sentimental rot. It is my heart on my sleeve. It is my courage and my truth. If you don’t like don’t read. Perhaps it has jeopardised any possible carer……………I don’t know…I do know after I blog I feel better, so here goes.
These past few weeks my physical pain is much less. Tick, tick! I have passing spasms, quick shoots, which leave a trail of fire, smart and go out. Nothing too debilitating, nothing crippling, no seizures either. Instead my mental-brain-pain seems to have increased ten-fold…….. in some ways this is alot harder and alot darker. I can’t see the wood for the trees and I don’t even want to be in these fecking woods in the first place!!
I feel like a giant onion. Each week I peel back a new layer, it makes me cry, so I numb myself up, with children’s stories, thumb sucking, hot showers, staying-in, cancelling events and hiding, till I can’t feel anything, so I won’t cry, but then my onion-self starts to hurt so with a heavy heart and shaking fingers I peel back another layer and on it goes and on…I wonder when my onion self will be peeled – and ready?? Soon I hope!
Created By ToxicAvenger : iselin, New Jersey, USA
This weeks layer contained these facts;
1. I AM FINE. I AM OK. I AM RIGHT – I am shouting this from a mountain way off in the distance, I am screaming till I’m blue in the face, sweat drips from my forehead, I’m shouting so loud. I AM FINE I AM FINE but… no one can hear me…no one even sees me. Instead there are hugs, hands, extra smiles, loving eyes, extra encouragement, ‘special arrangements’, recommendations and ‘awareness’. All these things come from places of love and yet instead of Love I simply see, again and again; YOU ARE NOT FINE, YOU ARE NOT FINE, YOU ARE NOT FINE… this leads me to ;
2. If you think I am not fine then I cannot really be right, so I must be wrong.
3. If I am wrong and you are right why are you here? Pity?
4. Through every extra loving action, every box of tablets, every held hand, every trip to the doctor, every ‘special arrangement’ I have learnt that I am wrong, I am not fine, I am broken. If I am so wrong, what’s the point in caring? I have always been wrong I will always be wrong. Being wrong is WHO I AM. Isn’t it? Being wrong is a bad thing. So therefore I am a bad thing and I don’t like bad things…….. I like positivity, tea and love-man! Don’t I?
5. Perhaps if somehow I become ‘right’ everyone will leave me.
………my head aches trying to make sense of this…….
a rambling blog….part of my tussle with TMS…..the path is not straight or smooth or marked in anyway. I am lost in the surf, spun in the washing machine, held down in the impact zone and I don’t know which way is up. I see a light but whose is it? Perhaps this blog will lead me to it. Perhaps now that spring is here.
Resurrection is no once-in-history miracle
Each moment offers a new now
Each swell of breath rolls rock from tomb
This morning the peepers call to prayer
From the vernal spring
Itself a miracle of renewal
Gentles me awake
To new life