Expanding and retracting

How deep can these trenches I walk in be dug? Day after day, pressing the muddy earth beneath my feet, feeling the line imprinted by repeated steps sink a little further. Knowing the salt and water squelching softly with each footfall is remnants of tears cried on previous journeys along the same path....

Every day is darker down here, but when I happen to look up, I see the sky; a vibrant, piercing blue full of the trills of birds, the warmth of the sun, fresh breezes that can invigorate me. But it is, sadly, beyond my reach. I can only glimpse it with my eyes, my other senses blocked by dense muddy walls and distracted by the constant lurching forward along my little line...

Perhaps someday I can embrace the life of a mole, blind and happy with a life lived in darkness, burying myself alive, eating soft brown granules of dirt, digging trenches into tunnels so far removed from the world that to be alone is natural and unquestionable...

There are days where it almost seems possible. And then there are days where the very thought of trying makes me want to quit all together...quit everything. But it is far too late for that. 

Lord, I know I must rely on you... It is too hard for me even to do that on my own. Please bring me back to you... Please... I know I don't deserve it... And may even be selfish in the request... 

Why are there so many days where it feels as though everything I do for him is unappreciated? Why do I still question whether or not he even loves me? Are these feelings justified by his behavior or am I misreading his actions? I'd like to think I am able to decipher these things correctly at this point but...

 ....will there always be a part of me that feels unloved and unwanted? Even worse, used without being appreciated and still viewed as inadequate as a lover? 

this is why the mole life seems so enticing...to be so ignorant, to simply keep grinding away at my life, giving and not receiving, and being...ok... With it. Maybe not ok, but at least...not thinking about it so that it cannot torture me any longer. To be just a happy little tool for someone else...

Well that seems all the more likely to happen now anyway, even if I do not choose it. I guess that's good. Maybe soon I can stop posting things like this. Happy in my nothingness.

an individuals values should be socialist, while the overall structure remains capitalist

An idea I would like to explore further soon is one that has been slowly percolating in my mind over the last few weeks, with all of the political and social upheaval upon us. Such seemingly polar opposites in terms of attitudes about how the world should be run....

But really, the problem is not one choice system or the other, rather, it is the underlying motivations or desires that drive humanity at an individual level. History shows us over and over that all political systems ultimately end up with corruption. So what is it that is corrupting them?

Obviously, it is us.

Until human beings are incorruptible, everything we propagate will become corrupted. It is intrinsic to our very cores to use any source of power to our own selfish advantage, and those who obtain this power will inevitably cause great damage from this selfish motivation.

Ideally, our world would be one with economic, cultural, and political freedom, but with innate and 100% agreed upon innate values of personal responsibility and compassion towards others.

Hmm..... feels like an incomplete thought. I will keep on percolatin'.

Such an exquisite form of suffering...

And it is one that will never be shared with anyone else... and thats ok.

I think, really, I just want someone who will share this burden with me, even just once and a while... as long as it was somewhat reliable...as ridiculous a desire that is...

But, I am the selfish one. Its true.  I am the one who lets other people down. I do in fact know it is true. I am the one who can't be enough. The truest of all. There's just not enough left of me to be that way....and I can't explain it to anyone, and why should I even have the right to try?

And now, I can't even allow myself to feel this way. I can't, I can't , its not safe. I could hurt someone so dear, I have to learn how to be OK with it. I have to learn how to recover quickly and keep going. There is no time anymore to wallow in my depression.

 Now is when I will let the tears fall, silent as always. Now is when I will let myself feel the weight of all my pain, all of your pain, all rolled into one. I never claimed to be perfect, though I strive to understand it all, to be your all, to hold the burden. And I know, it is only possible to a degree. It is impossible to ever understand all the internal turmoil experienced by another person, just as it is impossible not to be effected by the fiery lashings, the bottomless pit of depression that pulls at every corner of this house after years of seeping in it. How horrible it sounds when I write it out. Because it is.

 How am I supposed to make any decisions when I feel this way? So ridiculously broken and confused. So dead to myself, to the world, to everything. So alone with it all, because there is no chance of finding support anymore, from anyone other than those who cannot go or dare not go to the places I reside most frequently, and which are in such need of another mind. I give even a small piece of my burden to you and it breaks you under the weight of the burden you already carry, and then the lashings begin again. It is to be expected. It has to be. Lets just agree on that, ok? I can't keep trying to share and be received by a wild animal, ripping me to pieces. I am sorry if this is selfish. That is why I am writing it all here, so I won't have to share it with you, or with anyone else. It can die here, this piece of myself.

I am not sure what will be left but I will find a way to keep going, to be there for you. Pretending I am whole and well again when you find your way back to some state of equilibrium.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you..."

I watch as your mind is shrouded, overwhelmed by a seething tide of unfettered emotions. A cloud of anxiety and chaos. I see the crease between your eyebrows deepen as you try to overcome both the physical and mental war raging within. You sigh, breath shaking as you lift yourself from the sofa. You walk away from me wordlessly, the slightest shadow of a limp as your legs carry you down the hall.

I watch you as the door opens and you disappear into the darkness.... 

"Can I do anything to help?"

"I don't know."

Lying in your arms in the darkness, listening to the sounds of pain that softly emerge from your lips as you lay still and stiff, waiting for the next invisible pin to stick itself into your body. You never seem quite sure where it will hit you next. I wrap my arm delicately across your chest and over your shoulder. You gently move it closer to your neck, and I wince along with you as I realize I must have gotten too close to a live nerve. I find myself holding my breath until my arm is safely settled across your collarbone. I join you in your stillness. We inhale and exhale together; a somber, subtle rhythm that fills the silence, the only movement a restrained rising and falling from our chests...

So many years later and I still cannot allow myself to resent these painful, tender moments, of which there are so many. Even when you don't notice, I am sharing them with you, silently. Laying so still on your shoulder and willing myself not to make any noise as the tears pool in my eyes and overflow onto my cheeks. Knowing that if you notice, it will only add to the layers upon layers of pain you endure; the shame, the brokenness, the hopelessly frustrated desire to do more, to be more...And now you casually, waveringly offer me whatever you can, trying to pretend like your insides aren't on fire and sudden movements are easy, effortless...

I find your hand; your rough fingers rub circles into my palm. I feel the depth of your tenderness in this small, affectionate motion.

But I can't keep going tonight, as much as I know it might help you. My heart is overwhelmed again. I am unable to stop myself from feeling that sharp, deep stabbing that penetrates to the core... the hopelessness, the desperation.  The love that we share, and the immense pain that comes with it. A desire to escape the pain, and the pain that comes from thinking that the only way to escape is too painful in and of itself to ever consider. It would not, truly, be an escape, just another kind of torture. My heart is like an animal in a cage, beating loudly, doused in flame, in a room full of fire...I cannot help you, and I cannot help myself.

"I love you so much," I say.

"I love you too," you say.



  We lay silently, breaths intermingling, tears flowing softly on my cheeks.

nothing, nada, niente

Precipice

Lambasting and wasting away

I wait as my insides are torn apart

Dewdrops of pain falling from my eye ducts

No drugs can alleviate 

Or validate 

these feelings that I feel

How I wish it wasn't real as my mind steals

Away

Running off the edge of a mental precipice 

Holding onto clouds of dust that choke me

Before I hit the ground; I provoked this

Hell for myself

There's no way I'm not jealous of those 

Who are free of it

And not trapped in a tomb with nothing but

Broken hearts; panic and wounds

Paralyzed and chronically surprised

By the sheer unexpectedness 

Of all the lies accusations and betrayals of trust that

Infiltrate all our thoughts 

Destroying our view of the other as we cling on

To our own souls
for dear life;

We cut others down with knives;

Hearts carved out with words and spite

Insides hollowed out and kept out of sight

Doing what's wrong despite knowing what's right 

Keep on fighting when there's no reason to fight

And always 

Missing that
something 

that keeps our souls burning 

bright.
Goodnight...

Some say

The only way to overcome pain is to
go through it
Others might say you can
takes step to remove it, disprove it or use it
for something greater than all of it
Find your purpose through the pain if you choose it
No tears or hurt means you're useless...

Don't confuse this
With hopeless musings
Its nothing but the truth
A whisper amongst screams and empty schemes:
"Don't fall for it."

False hope meant to calm us
Leave marks like shadows seeping inside us
Like all those broken promises
The brightness of our eyes stolen
Through all the dramas and mistrust
Adults with the hearts of battered children
All those happy thoughts erased
Eradicated by the named
and nameless faces we seek to displace.

What happened to all the dreams we used to chase?

The truth slips through the cracks
in the masks we wear as we wear ourselves out
While inside we decay and cast about
Our life a play with many acts
Big brains full of lots of facts and other
useless information telling us that
we should develop our station
A nation divided by terror and
misplaced fascination...

How am I supposed to end this war on myself
When all I can think about is
My health and wealth?
This strive for perfection when there's no such thing as
perfect beauty, knowledge or affection
Waiting on my mental resurrection
When the true perfection is always
outside my perception

If I can't get an answer
then why ask the question?

Hands clasped behind my head
Staring at my feet
Eyes like darkened pools,
Overflowing, bittersweet
Wisdom that's obsolete and indiscreet

What can you do if life is hell and you can't take the heat?
Retreat and accept defeat.
Living on with the strangled hope that
Someday your Savior you will meet...

Feeling the desperation rise as I struggle
to stay organized
Fingers aching to tear at my eyes
Mouth pulled down into a grimace
No more disguises to beguile the masses
Can't hide the spasms of panic that rip through me and consume me
Theres nothing to me
anymore I'm all out of free passes
Running through these dark mazes
I can't face this, I'm wasted.
Looking for peace but can't taste it or replace it...

Stop lying...please...

I wish people would stop telling me I'm beautiful.

Pretty, hot... whatever they wanna call me...

It's all such a lie. They think that that is what I want to hear, so they say it... thinking it will make me feel better about myself. I don't get how they would assume such... why are people so inconsiderate? So insensitive? Does that sort of compliment ever actually make someone feel good about themselves?

They can't fool me... they can't convince me of something so utterly false.

I know my deformity. I know it better than anyone else, because I see it every day. I can feel it the moment I wake up. I just try not to  think about it...

So I hate the times where I can't avoid looking at it. I think that if people would just stop lying to my face about my face, when I have to look at it... it wouldn't be so bad. I'd be able to accept my ugliness and focus on more important things...

Because I know really my looks shouldn't matter anyway.... but for some reason, they do... and to be reminded once again of my obvious hideousness masked in a supposed compliment.... it just destroys whatever semblance of confidence, of comfortableness, that I've been able to build up between exposures to my marked disfigurement.

To have someone verbally point out ANYTHING about it, really, is just another reminder of how utterly disgusting it really is, and how I am stuck with it. There is no amount of makeup or pretty hair or clothing that can disguise it. I am stuck with it for life, and its only going to get worse as I get older.

Well, at least the older I get, the less people will feel the need to lie about it... and I can finally accept it. Just have to wait until my age shows enough so that people stop expecting beauty across the board. In a way, I can't wait.

I just wish....I don't know... I wish I was either totally ugly or totally pretty, and not some weird place in between; pretty eyes set in an ugly face... Either way would be better. I think then, people would stop lying to me. And I would be confident instead of unsure when I walk into a room, confident either way. Accepting the situation for what it is. JUST STOP LYING BECAUSE YOU THINK THATS WHAT I WANT TO HEAR! I KNOW YOU'RE LYING. YOUR LIES JUST MAKE IT WORSE.

Its such a stupid thing. Hubs must think I'm so stupid for feeling so upset about it. Well, I know that I am.  But it doesn't stop me from freaking out when we go to get our pictures taken and I fix my hair and makeup and dress and then get destroyed when the photographer shows us what hideousness has been captured, my trollishness saved forever in her computer files, distributed out amongst the congregation in the directory.

At least everyone else is used to my repulsiveness; having to see it any time you interact with me must help them get past it. I'm sure at first it is odd, but soon it just becomes who I am to them... I wonder how long until I can accept it for what it is and not freak out... I know that I'm right. I have thought for a long time I was suffering from BDD. But I have gotten past that... and I see my face for what it is. Maybe in some angles, with certain lighting, I look ok, I will admit that. But in reality, my face is a mess. And it always will be, unless I get plastic surgery or something. Which I won't do for moral reasons, I guess...

If people would just stop lying to me... it really would help me accept it.... just please stop lying to me. Don't call me beautiful when its not true. Don't tell me I should be happy with how I look, as if I am some kind of supermodel when that is SUCH A LIE. THERE IS NOTHING BEAUTIFUL ABOUT ME. If you can't think of anything nice to say without lying, DON'T SAY ANYTHING.




I don't want to care anymore...so please....stop making me...