Tag: writing is therapy

Is your thinking faulty? Go to war.

Have you ever felt like the Cheshire Cat?

Fading away.

Slipping away.

Until you are no more.

Lately I’ve felt like the disappearing cat from a beloved children’s book. Fading, fading, gone.

Does anyone notice?

Can you still see me?

I feel as if I’m floating.

Barely here.

Barely there.

Stretched so thin that I’m now Gumby.

At what point will I snap?

Am I as indestructible as I hope to be?

Nothing can kill me.

Not even myself.

Pull. Pull. Pull.

You grab one arm.

You grab the other.

My stretchy, indestructible green arms will let you pull and pull but they will not snap.

I will reappear.

My grin wider.

More present.

I am reinventing myself.

Will you like me?

Can you recognize me?

My costume is the same.

Blonde hair.

Spray tanned skin.

Hooped earrings.

But I am not the same.

The strength and indestructibility I feel growing within me is superhuman.

You can’t break me.

He didn’t break me.

Nothing can break me.

Pull and pull with all your might.

This little girl can put up a fight.

Lately I’ve been battling demons.

Calling myself names.

Damaged.

Worthless.

Never. Good. Enough.

But I’ve won the fight. I’ve knocked down the demons. Changed my language.

Vulnerable.

Raw.

Trying.

The. Best. I. Can. Be.

Are you battling demons?

Fading into the background?

Until you’re nothing?

Being stretched every which way?

Me too.

What can you do about it?

Try what I did.

Change your language.

Fight the demons.

Reframe your negative thoughts.

CHALLENGE YOUR THINKING.

Ask yourself- is this true?

How accurate is this thought?

Because I may be damaged but I’m trying.

I am not worthless.

I am hopeful.

I am not always good enough but I am good enough for the people who love me.

Fight the demons.

We are at war.

I am at war with myself. But I’m winning.

I am resurrected and stronger than ever.

Counselor with a Counselor

Four years ago my anxiety was at an all time high. I was suffering from irritability and excessive worries. I was also having worrisome palpitations and insomnia that made me feel as if I were dying. During this time I penned a poem to help process my symptoms.

Right on the Brink

My heart beats quickly,

my mind moves slow.

These feelings, lately,

I’ve come to know.

My palms feel sticky,

my hands are shaking.

I’m falling deeper and deeper

in the chaos I’m making.

I’m barely treading water;

I slowly start to sink.

I’m on the edge of tears,

I’m right on the brink.

I start wishing that I

could take a step back.

Out of my mind

and this panic attack.

I was crying myself to sleep at night and filling my head with self-doubt and negative self-talk a plenty. I was falling apart.

However, these were the photos I was posting on social media:

Big, happy smiles were plastered across my face. The front I showed the world covered my hurt and pain. Randy was deployed at the time and I was doing everything in my power to appear strong. I put up a strong front but inside I was falling apart.

Why do we do this to ourselves?

Keep the facade.

Save face.

Build tall walls around ourselves.

Because we are scared. Vulnerability is terrifying.

Processing my anxiety and my instability through a poem gave me clarity. It allowed me to admit to myself how I was feeling at the time.

So here I am- 3 years later doing the same thing. Feeling as if I’m slipping into a funk and processing it through writing.

Except this time I’m not faking it. This time I’m telling a different narrative.

doctor

This time I’m telling the truth.

Yesterday I had an appointment with my psychiatrist who manages my medication that helps me survive and thrive despite my depression and anxiety.

It was a good appointment; just a check-in. The selfie above is me waiting in his office. However, I did decide to schedule a counseling appointment. It’s been years since I’ve been in counseling but here I am- needing a refresher.

We don’t have to pretend to be perfect. It’s unhelpful and exhausting.

Be your true self.

Don’t save face.

It isn’t worth it. And it’s lonely.

I challenge you: be vulnerable. It helps keep things in balance; the right balance.