I balance on this precipice of life
Precarious and perilous in pain
While all around me fear whips raw and rife
Adrenaline rush coursing through my veins
I step towards abyss beyond the throng
Sense shadows in the depths begin to rise
Cold tendrils creeping stealthily along
Enveloping my soulless empty cries…
But suddenly I find myself pull free
Awareness amplified through every pore
I shudder at the thought of ending me
Am shocked at how I felt moments before
Collapsing in a pool of heart-wrenched tears
I cry until the darkness disappears…
Guard of Honour…
With flourishing arch
Proud trees flanking dirt-worn track
Bow gracefully low…
I try not to be bitter about past grievances in my life, I try not to let things build up like a huge head of water pushing intensely against an overfilled dam wall, pressured fit to burst. Instead I try my best to be aware of my emotions, to allow myself to feel the hurt and the unfairness and then try hard to let it go, not in a flood but in a steady stream of release. I try to stay soft-hearted in a world determined to harden my resolve. I don’t always succeed in my quest, but I can but try… 🙂
As a life-long people-pleaser I often feel panicked at the thought of having upset or offended anyone, afraid they won’t like me any more.
I worry beyond the point of reason when it comes to conflict, tying myself up in knots in an attempt to soothe and salve and ameliorate scenarios and situations wherever possible.
I find myself fretting to the nth degree whenever conversations threaten to develop into difficulties; to my dismay I hear myself backing off and backing down at almost every critical opportunity.
I’m feeling my levels of stress hormones rising even writing about it, and it makes me unfathomably sad to know how deeply my fragile sense of self-worth is still so utterly dependent on the external approval of others…
Uprooting myself from the past isn’t easy, but it’s a garden in which I no longer wish to grow… 🙂
I realise I tend to be quite erratic with my blog posting. It’s not intentionally irregular, it’s more that I just never know in advance when I’m going to feel like sharing stuff, or not.
Some days I’ve got a lot to say, with untold images and words falling over themselves clamouring for attention – use me, use me, they all cry at once – look, I fit this prompt perfectly! And yet on other days I have zero, zip, zilch. No matter how delicious the prompt, I remain untempted, untouched by inspiration, silenced either by introspection or apathy.
However, I have to say how I am on my blog is pretty much how I am in real life, either a feast or a famine of emotional outpourings of one form or another. I appreciate that my lack of consistency and need for spontaneity leading to somewhat irregular posting may create problems for anyone following me, but I guess what I’m finally learning to say in life is that this is me, this is who I am, take me or leave me, but I’m no longer going to go through life apologising just for being me… 🙂
Sink or Swim…
What hurtful daughter writes such damning words?
Disloyalty grips tight as guilt unfolds
For years my childhood fears remained unheard
Confused unworthy failings stayed untold
Unquestioning complicity required
I grew up thinking I was all to blame
My fault I wasn’t someone more desired
My female gender always cause for shame…
But now my scapegoat days are gone for good
No longer will I carry all that weight
Two generations further than it should
I leave my parents’ needs to their own fate –
Disloyalty cuts both ways, don’t you think?
It’s time I learn to swim before I sink…
I’m not generally keen on automatically blaming the parents for all the faults of the child, but I’m finally having to acknowledge that however disloyal it may feel and however much guilt it generates within me, I have to accept that some of the continued attitudes and actions of my parents have inevitably caused me (and do still cause me) psychological distress.
Years of therapy for depression, studying Psychology as part of my degree, and the experience of being a flawed parent and grandparent myself have all contributed to the growing realisation that perhaps I was not, after all, the reason for any discord within my family, but rather it may be that particular issues within certain individuals in my family have in fact helped cause the discord in me.
It’s actually quite a liberating realisation, even at the age of 53, and writing (and sharing) these poems about how it feels is really helping me process the emotional turmoil I’m experiencing at the moment. So please bear with me through the introspective doom and the gloom, and hopefully normal service will resume shortly 🙂
Beyond the Pale…
As avidly I read to understand
Why always I’ve felt never good enough
I find myself push further than first planned
Beyond the pale to landscapes raw and rough.
I struggle through harsh sentences revealed
Confront the urge to vent a latent rage
Bewildered I revisit wounds unhealed
Old hurts brought back to life across the page.
Deep narcissistic traits exposed and bare
My mother’s selfish game of life displayed
Manipulating facts; unjust, unfair
Invalidating every choice I’ve made…
I’m learning to let go of life-long guilt
As thankfully my world-view starts to tilt…
Fight or Flight…
Fear binds me close with suffocating hold
Heart thumping in my chest with echoed beat
Squeezed tight my halting breath grates sharp and cold
My struggling soul enveloped quite complete
Nerves jangling loud like mocking jailor’s keys
My self-made chains pull taut in fresh alarm
Tied up in knots, unable to break free
Imprisoned by my own strait-jacket arms
But life cannot be lived in such a state
Forever trapped in fear and constant fight
I know I must release this death-shroud weight
Stop trying to control with all my might
I need to learn to trust life can be kind
And flee this taunting prison of my mind…
I try to keep a guiding hand on life
Prevent myself from blindly stumbling through
I minimise all threats of future strife
And wearily defend my cautious view
I draw up plans and carefully adhere
To rules that fairness states should bring success
I try to keep emotionally clear
Hold back potential tidal waves of stress
But sometimes life reminds me that control
Is nothing but illusory at best
However hard I fight to reach my goal
The real world intervenes and thwarts my quest
So sitting here in anguish, head in hands
I feel myself unravel, like my plans…