Express Yourself!

You know you need an attitude adjustment when you look down at your keyboard and in all the available writing spaces on it you see “life sucks then you die”,  #wtf,  #fml,  fuck you! and a head (my head) with a knife sticking out and blood coming from it!!! I thought Holy Christ in a one piece romper, what is wrong with you and what were you struggling with when you put that there?

Anyways my keyboard is cleaned up and here is a more relaxing healthier peek into what my life has been like most of the time since my last post.

My pain is a little less and some nights I actually sleep.

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Some people have everything, and other people don’t.
But everything don’t mean a thing if it ain´t the thing you want.

Express Yourself!
Express Yourself!

Written by Charles W. Wright •

 

I remember the days ✓

Have you ever been humbled first thing in the morning by a comment someone makes or a comment you see online. Well it happen to me today.

I have be going around the last couple of years now wondering if there was a God, sometimes denying it  and how silly it all was and blaming the non-existent god for every wrong thing that was going on in my life. I blamed him for all my pain, for all my financial troubles and all the over all conditions of my life.

Then yesterday one of my best friend in the world  messaged and told me she was in the hospital and I got really scared and said “Please God look after Melissa” and that was the start of my reminder that yes I can pray and when I do sometimes shit happens.

Then this morning I laid in bed and was thinking of all my pain and other troubles and I found myself saying “God help me please”. Now let me finish before you all start thinking praise Jesus she is getting religious because that will never happen, you will never see me in a church ( I hate that word so much I feel like I need to rinse my mouth) I am also sure that the God that they talk about is  not the same as my idea of the word God

So I got up and came out to my computer to find a number to cancel an appointment I had made and when I was done I went to Instagram and this comment below was what I seen and it stopped me dead in my tracks and demanded I think about what it said.Image1.jpg god

I started to remember the days when I prayed for someone to come get me and love me so many years ago  and now I live with him everyday ✓

I remember the days on a dirt road in Newfoundland when I saw my life being taken and praying for it not to happen and here I am still alive ✓

I remember the days praying for happiness and safety and watched as it happen ✓

I remember the days I felt so alone and praying for Mike to recover from his head injury  and then watched him recover ✓

I remember the days praying when we didn’t know where money was going to come from  and watching as the impossible happened ✓

I remember the days when I made plans to move back to Canada and praying it would happen and now I live in Canada ✓

I remember the days praying for a place where I could rest and enjoy while I got over my depressions  and I live in the country with a porch ✓

I remember days when praying as doors closed and watching new and better ones open ✓

I am still really sure that maybe the God that we were taught to believe in and what we were told he stands for does not exist but I do believe in praying, whether its just saying it and having faith it will happen or as simple as wishing on a star

“When You Wish Upon A Star”

When you wish upon a star
Makes no difference who you are
Anything your heart desires
Will come to you
If your heart is in your dreams
No request is to extreme
When you wish upon a star
As dreamers do 

Fate is kind
She brings to those who love
The sweet fulfillment of their secret longing

Like a bolt out of the blue
Fate steps in and sees you through
When you wished upon a star
Your dreams come true

If your heart is in your dreams
No request is to extreme
When you wish upon a star
As dreamers do

When you wish upon a star
Your dream comes true

There are days like this

Seems I have lost my way its so dark around me I can barely see
I stumble daily not knowing where this dark thorn covered path is leading me
Where can I run where I can hide when I know off the path is so unsafe and unsure
If only I could fixed this never ending pain that has burned its way down into my soul’s core

I glance back over the journey I have taken on this path and life has not been kind
I have never been able to count on anyone to make me feel secure and show me someday all would be fine
No one can be trusted with this heart of mine my feeling I must guard they all just tell me empty lies
Why should I open myself to anymore pain  no one can fill this emptiness or take away my souls sad cries

My eyes only see this path as a straight path to and from destruction and a never ending life of pain
I must stay here in the dark and try to find the person I have hidden away to protect her from going insane
How can I handle all this guilt that I have to carry forever and all the lost tears I have cried
I fall on my knees and feel the thorns piercing into my skin yet a welcome pain from what I feel inside

So ya I write poems too

Sitting alone trying so hard to understand my life and how this came to be.  Searching for someone to understand how living with this emptiness feels to me. Living so alone missing so many memories not knowing which way I should go. Why can’t someone help me find my past a past that I know had hurt me so.

Why can’t someone turn the key and unlock the terrible secrets buried deep. Please can’t you find all the missing pieces and return my memories for me to keep.  No one should live in darkness wondering what had happen or how their life was shaped. These missing years were mine and mine alone and not for someone else to so cruelly take.

I walk alone down a path of darkness with fireflies casting little drops of light. But then there are so many secrets scattered on the pathway hidden  from my sight. It’s all so overwhelming trying to stop all the thoughts that scream inside my head. There are no answers for me just pain and confusion trying to sort out the life I lead.

I know from what I can remember my path has been filled with much hardship and pain. I know I seen many days of sunshine but mostly I have faced the bitter cold and rain. What did they do to me that caused me to hide and protect myself by blocking out the past.  Without knowing all these answers I know my need to search will remain and my pain will always last.

I need someone to take my hand and walk with me for I must never be alone. Although I need and want to find these missing years I must not do it on my own. This lost and innocent woman needs someone when the past resurfaces to dry her falling tears. So please come and let me lean on you  and walk slowly while I search for my missing years.

 

©KathBaiR ……From Lost of Innocence

What if …cont’d

What if I told you that I was professionally diagnosed with all my symptoms and it really pisses me off that you people who are having a bad month and wants pity will self diagnose yourself with depression, anxiety disorder and even PTSD?

Do you really think that its great having those illnesses and it makes you look cool? Ask someone who was diagnosed by a doctor to have these illnesses if they feel cool or want pity.

What if I told you it hurt me and insulted me every time you say I’m so depressed when all you are feeling is down over something that happen?.

What if I told you about a day when my depression is at its worst and how my day would go, would you even care?

My day begins when I awake at 4am with a million thoughts consuming my mind and still tired because I didn’t really get any sleep except for a few times my sleeping pill left me to choice but to pass out. So I get up so I won’t wake my husband and toss and turn in the guest room for two or three hours until my husband gets up to go to work.

Then I go back to my bed and watch the news or check out Facebook until 11am. Then I will get up with my PJs on and wash my face and go out into the living room and close all the blinds my husband had opened before he left for work and sit until I am forced by the dropping of my glucose to get something to eat. I will go back to bed several times that day and get a bath where I lay there on really bad days and like I said before think about being dead. I don’t think about killing myself all the time mostly just the thought in my head how death wouldn’t be so bad.

Shortly before my husband gets home I will try to look as nice as anyone can with PJs still on at 4pm, sometimes I will open the blinds again and prepare a meal.

On these days when I am feeling at my worst my husband will usually come home with some take out food and we will eat and then go lay on the bed where I will put my head on his shoulder and he will tell me about his days and I will tell him about mine and then he will tell me all the reasons why he loves me and how I am the most wonderful person alive because I will say “tell me baby”.  He will tell me how sorry he is that I have to live with pain and depression and I will tell him how being with him makes me fight everyday of my life so I can have more good days than bad and give back to him when he’s in need of comfort and encouragement.

What if I told you that was my depression

post traumatic stress disorder, anxiety, depression, blah blah blah ……. What if?

Yes I have been diagnosed with all of the above and yes I suffer with it every day of my life but you don’t really want to hear that do you?

You would rather I didn’t talk about it and the reason I am like what I am because that way you wouldn’t have to think about it or show me any compassion. You would rather I didn’t embarrass everyone by acting like someone who has a mental illness and just say I am in pain so therefore I get down sometimes.

How would it make you feel if I told you the reason I am like I am and have a mental illness is because I was psychically and mentally abused for over thirty years?

What if I told you that P.T.S.D means this; Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)  a mental health condition that’s triggered by a terrifying event either experiencing it or witnessing it?

What if I reminded you that I live with chronic pain every day of my life now and just three minutes before the photo below was taken, I lay in the tub and thought about suicide

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What if I told you that last week I thought about suicide too  and played out the scenario in my mind of how me being gone would affect certain people?

What if I told you I don’t  want to die and neither do most of the people that have considered or already taken their life?. What if I told you what we want is understanding and extra care in a world that have treated us with such cruelty? We don’t need to hear “oh it happen years ago your safe now so be happy” or to be told that we are just seeking attention. You may not be able to save everyone not even half but.

What if ?

I’M TRYING, I REALLY AM

I just got through, no, got through sounds like some kind of victory.  I just crawled while crying and begging for death through two of the most painful days I have had since I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia.  I can honestly say I know how it feels when every fiber of your body is hurting, not something I wanted the distinct honor of proclaiming but I know nevertheless.

I have to confess when you are laying in bed and the only thing that is mildly working is your brain and its reasoning and facts are somewhat distorted, you come up with a lot of crazy shit. For example the few minutes I sent myself in a free falling panic when I thought about how having a terminal illness would be easier to deal with because at least there was a foreseeable ending.

Although there are rare days when I  can actually make it through a day without the aid of pain medication or when walking down the hallway to the bathroom doesn’t seem like a hike on the Appalachian Trail, days when I act like I’m a normal overweight fifty nine year old who has slowed down a little with age and extra padding, there are actually hundreds of more days when I cry,  get angry and flip off a maybe existing god that could be so cruel to let the remaining of my days be so painful.

I have so many start over positive days I’ve lost count. I try  not to let the pain get the best of me and send me into a depression but it seems the fight is getting harder everyday. I fight to hang on to my life and on days when I feel maybe thirty percent of a person my age and extra padding level would feel, I work like a son of a bitch to prove to everyone around me and of course to the maybe existing god and myself that I am normal, so fuck you!

Then the next few days I am sent to my bed to cry and hurt while I think about all the things I did wrong on my somewhat good day.

Living with fibromyalgia is not easy, its a struggle everyday even *good days* and when you see me and I can carry on a conversation and shop at a thrift store for an hour or ride in my car as a passenger of course for a couple of hour or go grocery shopping,  please know I am trying my best and before I left home I prepared for my day by taking double doses of pain medication, put on a bra that doesn’t feel like its digging into my body and will have to be surgically removed and nine chances out of ten no panties because I can’t stand the feel of the elastic on my skin and a handicap sticker so I won’t have to walk as far back to the car. ……………..hereiam