Friday, April 30, 2010
During all of this I am making almond milk for my breakfast cereal and trying to dehydrate the left over almond pieces (without a proper dehydrator) to make almond meal/flour for a strawberry-almond muffin recipe I found. My roommate is in Baltimore for the weekend so I was feeling a bit lonely. I thought about how I have been making a few friends at school (so awesome!.... something so difficult for me because of the bipolar and the abuse). Then, "viva la vida" by cold play came on the radio. I smiled. I guess I had never really listened to the words before. It made me realize how I had lost so much last December but how far I've come and I'm a different person. I realized that I didn't need Adam. I realized that I have let him go A LOT in the past 2 weeks. Even when he put me down on the phone yesterday, twice, it didn't bother me as much. I just didn't care. Sure, it hurt, but I realized I'm not so attached anymore.
And then I smiled and realized that I am happy with my life. Most importantly, I'm HAPPY.
A lot of things really really suck right now. But overall.... I am living my life for ME! Me, no one else. Thats an amazing feeling when you have never done that before. And really, does anything else really matter?
Thursday, April 29, 2010
So, i finally got my hair cut the other day. I wanted something that would look good as Vickie and Alex. I've been researching mens haircuts for a few months and debating. But then I noticed a style very similar to what I was looking for on a female high school classmate of mine. She was always somewhat of a role model for me growing up. Later, after we graduated I found out she was bi-sexual as well. Well.... now she's got a hair cut that looks FUCKING AWESOME on her.... but is almost identical to the male haircut that I've been thinking about. SWEET!
Fortunately, my classmate has a similar body build as I, so I figured it would work for me too. Got my hair cut and now I am thrilled. I have been frequently been breaking out in giggles because it is fun to play with. I can gel it into all sorts of styles. Flat like Rhianna, a faux-haux, spiky flat top, swirled. And, it makes me feel more confident as a male and want to get a wig for my female side. I have never felt this confident as Alex before (nor happy). Its like an identity verification. What HAS been pissing me off is that since I don't have the materials to bind my chest, unfortunately I fear people will think of me as a butch lesbian which is NO WHERE near the truth. *sigh* One thing at a time and no reason to spoil the fun, right! I have a little victory, it seems (or feels like).
An interesting thing I noticed is that getting my hair cut like this brought up an old memory. I often say that my first memories of knowing I was a boy in a female body was at my house in Lima, NY. But this memory hails from Niagara Falls, where I lived until I was 5. When i was 4-ish, I saw a guy with a mohawk. I thought it was cool. So during "nap-time" I cut all my hair off the sides. In my mind, I was doing it because I wanted to emulate something that was gender appropriate, not just because it was cool. NOTHING I said to my mother make sense to her when I tried to explain. She didn't understand. I liked my hair short. I think this is my first honest memory of knowing my gender didn't match my body. I hated it long, even when she made me grow it out, curling it under with irons every morning before school.
Apart from a fear of being burned by the irons a few times, I hated being feminine, even as a child. When I was in second grade my grandparents and parents re-did my room as a "surprise". The redid it in pink and white with lace, complete with a 4 post-canopy bed. Vickie, I'm sure was thrilled, but for the most part I hated my room so completely that I wouldn't use it any more except when I had to go to sleep. Even then, I never slept well in the room. It felt like an utter violation and I started having terrible nightmares (I'm sure influenced by the molestation as well)and started sleep-walking. Once I was a teenager, often times my room was the only safe haven from emotional and physical abuse in the house. Literally, I think it was me taking "refuge" in a stereotype (being a girl) that I didn't want but had to play. Certainly, psychologically I was that way too as well because I would wear makeup and dresses to avoid lectures and screaming at me. But, it all just made the scar that much deeper because I was stuffing the pain down. Honestly though, I had more immediate issues (rape, abuse, being sick from gluten, etc) that had to take priority, unfortunately, for immediate survival.
Its funny how trying to being yourself can be such a difficult process. YAY haircuts!
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Activities - hobbies, cleaning, events, ppl, chores, games, go outside, exercise
Thoughts – count, watch something (out window, TV), puzzles, read
Contributions - to someone, volunteer work, surprises, thoughtful things
Comparisons – soap operas, biographies, disasters & suffering, relate to others
Emotions – create different emotions w/stories, old letters, movies, music
Pushing Away – leave situation, block it out, censor ruminating, put away temp
Sensations – hold ice, hot shower, loud music, sex, strong smells, touch things
In an extreme form distraction can be abused to become a form of denial or the starting point of many addictions to deal with unsettling feelings. Beyond distracting mechanisms, "self soothing mechanisms" help bring you back to reality after you have distracted yourself from the initial unsettling event. Using these "self soothing" mechanisms help you reconnect with reality so that you can move on into the next stage of coping. If you don't, your body is forced to express your emotions with your body. This usually means that something malfunctions (digestion--> diarrhea) or starts to hurt (headache) or you become vulnerable to subconsciously hurting yourself (run into a table, twist an ankle, not being as careful to screen allergens in food, etc) or worse, permanent damage/malfunctions of the body or disease because some people are chronic "stuffers", always "stuffing" their emotions down to deal with something. Usually, it is easier to see someone else doing this then realizing you are doing this yourself.
As I have been exploring these coping strategies, it has been overwhelming to see how things in my life have been redefined and I understand why people do the things they do. For example, when my recent boyfriend was upset he would distract himself by working. He loved his work and I loved the fact that he loved his work. I even didn't mind him working long hours for the cause because I believed in the work that he was doing. What was disturbing (and he couldn't see this) was that he would work well beyond his limits as a way to distract himself form something that upset him. Even worse, overworking himself and constantly "stuffing" and distracting himself led him to subconsciously punish himself when he felt guilty, for example, and vulnerable to hurting himself (ie: accident prone or purposely eating things that would make him sick). He couldn't stop working, even when he recognized that he was doing this and wanted to stop. Often I couldn't tell the difference between him just working hard and abusing himself until he was already out of touch with reality and his body.
One of the most difficult things I have been dealing with the last few weeks is realizing that I was enabling him to be this way. I was co-dependent. He was vulnerable when he was like this and he would need me to take care of him because the "distraction" and "stuffing down" of his emotions would make his body finally translate those emotions into getting very sick. This Distress Tolerance program has made me understand why he was doing what he was doing, and also helping me understand how I was dealing with it. I know that I too don't cope well and I react in similar ways to Adam, but with different methods and results, which is part of the journey of healing: learning about yourself. My way of dealing/coping was to spiral out of control with my own ways of denial, stuffing, and addictions.
Not only that though, I realized that I have a history of this with past relationships, but in different manifestations. And even further, I realized that I learned how to be this way from my family. I had my place in my family that made me both witness to co-dependence, a co-dependent myself, and extremely vulnerable to becoming the dependent individual. I know this because I learned that being sick gives a person the "right" for attention and to expect others will make everything better for you.
Two and half years ago I moved to San Diego because I was so sick that I couldn't go to school anymore. I began my healing journey and have put everything second to health (and often sacrificing a lot). The past 2 years I have been focusing mostly on the second stage, "self-soothing".
Vision – flowers, candles/flame, decorations, art, nature, stars, museums, downtown, pictures, dance performance
Hearing – music, sounds of nature, sing or play instrument
Smell – perfume/lotion, spray fragrance, aromatherapy, clean sheets or bathroom, potpourri, flowers, bake or cook, nature
Taste – good meal, tea/hot chocolate, dessert, candy, new spices
Touch- bubble bath, clean sheets, pets, massage, lotions, hot/cold, comfortable chairs, unique clothing & accessories, head/hair, hugs
Like I said before, self-soothing is in essence, using your senses to reconnect to your body so that you can move on to the next stages of coping (ie: surviving the "crisis" and accepting it). I started pulling myself out of the deep depression and sickness in my body when I moved to San Diego by seeing a therapist specializing in "complimentary therapy" which means mostly taking advantage of mind-body connections in therapy instead of just talking. I started using music therapy on my own to supplement and to start the process of reconnecting to my body (My body actually was numb and I had lost feeling in parts of it. It was the way my body was dealing with "stuffed" emotions.). Via exploring music therapy, I found that different types of western music induced different changes within the body. I came to this conclusion after working my way through the lecture series of Robert Greenberg from the Teaching Company (http://www.teach12.com/ttcx/CourseDescLong2.aspx?cid=700) and reading the Mozart Effect by Don Campbell (http://www.amazon.com/Mozart-Effect-Tapping-Strengthen-Creative/dp/0340824379/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1271973168&sr=1-1). I now know its all music, but I'll focus on a few examples. I also know that signing actually produces what is equivalent to an "internal massage" to your body that is helpful, but that is too much to talk about now.
What amazed me what that the evolution of music over the last 1000 years in Europe, roughly followed the same process that a person goes through in growing up, or being "reborn" through an awakening of consciousness (via trauma, religion, etc. ) I learned that Plainchant, popularly known as Gregorian chant, is the primary and nearly the only form of music during the Middle Ages. Its is known for fostering rhythms of natural breathing, relaxation, and induces spaciousness. It is good for quiet study and meditation and will reduce stress. Most importantly, it can create a "sanctuary" of sorts acoustically and a safe space for those in a panic attack or experiencing fear to find a safe space to calm down. It is the time when someone is in their distraction/denial/addiction stage OR quiet growth stage before exploring emotions, like a child before puberty.
After the Middle Ages, the Renaissance created new music unlike anything that had ever been produced in Europe before. Music (and all culture at this time) was starting to explore the boundaries for what is possible and experimenting with expressing emotion. Renaissance music is still quite structured like that of the Middle Ages, but it can be seen as a safety net, or framework in which these emotions could be explored in. This genre is wonderful for individuals recovering from trauma or any negative experience because it creates a safe environment to come out of the "sanctuary" and explore emotion. This type of music is also useful in contemplation.
I found myself going back and forth between these two genres often. I started adding in aromatherapy; using different sents to support or soothe, stimulate and calm. Then I started explore with cooking and new spices and going to art museums and taking walks in nature, thus stimulating all five senses.
Then, I found calm music over-layed with a heartbeat. This was an important turning point for me. When I was in Vienna, Austria, I visited a music museum and there was a large exhibit about the physiological effects of the womb-environment on individuals. The book the Mozart Effect also talked about how recreating the womb was sometimes be therapeutic for some people. I remembered the feeling I had in the recreated womb environment at the museum so I tried this on my own with music containing a heartbeat. I incorporated it into my "bag of tricks" I had, in conjunction with my plainchant and renaissance music. The heartbeat was extremely calming in a way that felt like a rope being thrown to me when I'm drowning in water. Today, when I use the heartbeats (I have a little machine that I can overlay heartbeats over any music now) it usually feels like a rope being thrown to me in the water when I don't need it and is in my way, but I guess that only shows how far I've come! YAY!
I've been working in more self-soothing tricks, such as yoga, acupuncture, exercise, colors, soft sheets and pillows, and meditation. These all help me connect with my body. Today, I have feeling in my body again! Not all places are 100% there, but I can now connect with my body enough to fight dissociation instead of being pulled own into a dissociated state, and thus vulnerable to re-traumatizing myself. This is huge for me!
My biggest challenge that I have started on since the beginning of the year is, and ironically, the next stage in Distress Tolerance is "Improving the Moment".
Improving the moment
Imagery – relaxing scene, secret space, alt reality, hurt draining away, protection
Meaning – find/create purpose, meaning or value, spiritualism, positive aspects
Prayer – conversation w/creator, meditate
Relaxation – massage, exercise hard, hot bath/sauna, hot milk/tea, breathe smile
1-thing in the moment – stay focused w/awareness at the task at hand
Vacation – in bed, motel room, in nature, at the park, breakfast in bed, indulge in chocolate or a magazine/newspaper, unplug phone, 1-hour break
Encouragement – cheerlead yourself
It was hard at first to realize that for many of these Improving the Moment skills, I have been dependent on Adam to do for me. It really hit me hard that not only was I co-dependent on him, but now that I am on my own, I'm recovering from co-dependency (which is nothing more than an addiction to stopping an addiction in someone you care about), my own addictions that were reactivated from trying to cope with the co-dependency, AND recovering from being dependent on Adam (him being co-dependent on me). For whatever reason, I don't know how yet, I would end up in a situation where I was trying to cope with something but I couldn't pull myself far enough into reality with my senses (and thus I would loose my connection with my body) and away from my distracting methods and Adam would talk my through or even do for me something that would improve the moment. By him doing that, I lost control of my ability to cope and was instead dependent on him to do it for me and nothing got fully resolved.
Its been exciting to explore this. A huge step is this massage school. It has opened a lot of doors for me not only professionally but in learning about myself. This blog is a HUGE part of improving the moment as well in finding meaning and cheerleading myself. I want to explore hyponotherapy/imagary, which is a new program at Mueller. And I've been practicing taking "vacations".
I don't think anyone really "masters" everything in this program. But it is a learning process and way to be a healthier person. Its been the topic on my mind for weeks, about how my coping skills are faring. Honestly, I think I have stronger skills than most of the people in my DBT group. But I constantly feel that I don't have good coping skills because I feel that if I keep using unhealthy skills it must be because I am too weak. I feel like I'm sabotaging myself. All I can do, I guess, is keep being myself. Keep learning how to love myself. Yesterday I found my inspiration to get over my unhealthy coping skills.
"Love is a passion for life shared with another person. You fall in love with a person you think is wonderful. It's your deepest appreciation of the value of that individual, and that individual is a reflection of what you value most in life. When you love someone else, you love them with all the joy in your life. When you hate or despise yourself and wallow in misery, how can you love another? Love is not to be ashamed of or embarrassed. It can be one of life's greatest rewards." -Terry Goodkind.
Monday, April 19, 2010
And this is what Adam essentially said to me those last days.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Friday, April 09, 2010
Tuesday, April 06, 2010
Saturday, April 03, 2010
Never Ending Nightmares
If you knew what I’ve been through you would understand me. I am tortured with nightmares of a past unlike my own. It is a fading memory of the night someone visited a train of death; a black train of tortured children on the verge of freedom yet insanity. It ran from one station to the next where it picked up children who had been labeled with bright red stickers given to them from the state, “I need help, I have a problem.” I got on accidentally after wandering too far… too far, too far…. too far into the realm of imagination and dreams. Anything is possible but anything can get you into a whole bunch of trouble and a prison of someone else’s nightmares. Those persons’ thoughts melt into your own in the land of thoughts and dreams and you become them….
Children could get off the black train if they passed the rigorous health tests of the state, but there was one exception to the rule. If you could find someone to take your place then you may leave. No matter how stupid it sounds it was the rule and I did it, too young to understand the consequences.
I met this boy, a little bit older than me and consented to his wishes. It was the last stop before doom and he was beside himself to get off. It was a quick switch of name tags and clothes and I was destined for a ruined childhood. We arrived at the station and I watched him walk off and it was then that I understood what I had foolishly done.
I did everything to get off, I was hysterical. I ran up the isle and into the chubby guy who pushed the food cart. After crying my heart out he confirmed to me that in fact those who take another’s place were foolishly trapped on this train, but if you can pass the health test you may get off. Unfortunately he didn’t tell me one piece of information that made me fail. Not only do you have to pass this mental and physical test but prove you are free from all the illnesses of the person you switched with. I signed up for the test, hysterical from the situation, and immediately failed without being looked at. After peeking at the medical sheet the nurse held, I read “The subject is showing signs of unstableness. She seems hysterical and has been known to be so often.” I knew I was doomed.
We pulled into a station surrounded by a large double fence; within the walls were trees, almost a forest of them. I could see a large jungle gym playground to the side of several red sandstone buildings. As each one of us were given new tags and separated, we were quickly herded to the school buildings and given schedules and lockers. It was the beginning to education within prison walls. At nights we each were guarded and it was not long before I broke. I broke down in a mass of confusion of why I was there and why couldn’t I leave.
The next day in gym, during swimming class, I discovered something amazing. We each had been issued new swim suits and I had a yellow bikini, square across the top and the bottoms were small shorts that sort of gave the appearance of being square across the bottom. Being in them gave me a tingly sensation, like magic was in them. Then, when I dove into the pool, I felt a sudden jolt of sensation and I felt like they were trying to lift me up for a split second and then I splashed down into the water. It was really strange. I decided to stay in my new suit for the rest of the day under my clothes and at recess the suit did it again. So instead of ignoring it I jumped and tried to fly. I jumped off the ground and didn’t come down! I just hovered there for a second before I freaked out and fell back down. It was a good thing that I was in a corner that no one else was. From then on I wore my yellow bikini under my clothes everyday and I practiced “flying” and discovered with a little imagination and belief in myself I could do anything. I started skipping classes when ever I was stressed, to go flying. Sometimes I fell asleep on the clouds. I had to be really careful no one saw me, but, it was when I was getting to comfortable with my new found talent that things started happening.
One day I was flying over the playground and decided to land on top of one of the buildings. The buildings had a lot of stones and rocks on top of them because they were flat. One of the stones rolled off and hit a teacher in the head. I was frantic because she called Buildings and Grounds to get a ladder and find out what was up on top of the roof. I couldn’t stay there and get caught but I couldn’t fly off because no one can miss someone in a bright yellow bikini. When the guy was half way up the ladder I panicked and fled. Off I flew and everyone below was astonished at what ever that yellow thing was. I was really scared of what would happen to me.
It was not long after that I was called down to the principal’s office. Thoughts were running through my head and kept coming back to, did they figure out I was the one who was flying? Scared out of my mind I was herded into the office. The dark haired, stern faced principal started in a deep tone, “Young lady, we have been noticing some strange behavior lately. You have been cutting classes and your teachers have been noticing that you don’t pay attention and seem to be in another world. Therefore we are giving you a guard to supervise you. He will be at you side at all times with the exception of when you are dressing and in the bathroom. All of your personal items will be taken from you also. That is all.”
My emotions ran from thank god he doesn’t know to I’m trapped! The guard led me to my first class, science. I had to ask to borrow a pen and a pencil and was horrified when my teacher told me I couldn’t have a pen because I could blow it up. The guard stood in the back of the classroom watching me the entire period. After class I gave my pencil back to the teacher and she gave me a look of surprise that I actually didn’t steal it and take it with me! During Math next period with my new borrowed pencil I started making a plan of escape. During recess I would climb on top of the highest tower on the playground. I would make to jump off and then would fly away.
What I didn’t expect was that I wouldn’t be allowed recess in the first place but I would have to sit outside with my guard. I sat fuming that my plan had failed until I realized I was still outside and I didn’t have to be on the playground to make my escape. Running as fast as I could to be as far away from the guard before I took off I tried to pull off as much of my clothes so that I wouldn't be pulled down by the extra weight. My bright yellow bikini was sending strong waves of tingly sensations through me. I took off and flew as high and fast as I could. But, again I didn’t expect what happened next. Before I knew it I was faced with the guards at the towers on the fence with showers of bullets. Bullets that brought the death I always knew would come from this place of endless doom in an endless realm of dreams.
I have always believed that if you can’t be happy in your home, you will never be happy anywhere. But, family is where home is and my family is unlike any other. There are so many differences and experiences that make us unique, sometimes so brutally painful or just honestly simple. When a physically disabled college girl, born with Spina Bifida, met an entrepreneur-ing out of state boy, my dad once told me “there was a connection that just transcended all the physical levels”. They got married right out of college, had two children, and moved to a tiny island off of
I’m the eldest of those two, an able bodied, healthy young girl. My parents have always worked very hard to support us all. Living in Buffalo, I remember happily piling all my stuffed animals on my bed at night and then watching the stars out my windows, windows too high to see out of. When I got in trouble, my stern mother would send me to time out, behind the kitchen door. It was always my luck to be behind the door when my dad got home from work, because I would be crushed against the wall. It was a terrible time for my mother though, being trapped in the house.
Her birth defect, specifically called Myelomeningocele means that there is a hole in her spine and when she was born, part of her spinal column and much of the spinal fluid was in a sac on the outside of her body. Several operations and a lifetime of physical pain is all she has known. I know that when I was five, she got really sick and was hospitalized. With my dad working two jobs and the social workers concerned about my brother and I, we were shipped off to our grandparents’ house until my dad moved our family to a small farming town south of
For me, I have managed to grow up in a very affluent public school and somewhat sheltered lifestyle. She worked in the school and so everyone knew her and therefore me. But it was a curse for me. Sometimes, having a needy mother makes it feel like I have one parent and two siblings, both taking all the attention. Naturally I lashed out at school, my teachers worried about me, my friends hated me, and my pastor hugged me, until she moved away. We always fought because she always pushed… if she got through her struggle, then my life must be easy and my problems insignificant. Thus, my mother and I are not the best of friends. If I wanted to feign sick or cry to the counselor, I couldn’t… she worked in the Nurse’s office, as well as the Counseling office, and the Main office.
When I was in high school, I realized that my parents and my life were very different then other peoples’. My only real friend had a brain tumor and had undergone major operations. I was a fortunate girl for empathizing with so many people. I even mentored a little girl with deaf parents. But high school drama nearly tore our family apart and my life. Desperate for compassion, I became the victim of an abusive boyfriend and then lost my good friend to the same guy. At the same time, my dad lost his job, and several months later I was involved in a serious car accident that totaled my dad’s car, the most valuable asset to my dad’s new and struggling business, our only hope for financial survival.
Over the past year, our family has learned to live much closer together because we have one car. We each make sacrifices of time and money just to get by. But I have especially started to see a bright light in my future. My experience of life has made me a very unique individual. I have taken what I have learned and become very active in the community and local government, standing up for youth rights. However, besides giving me the most challenging and rewarding environment in which to grow up in, my mother has inspired me to help other people by becoming a doctor.
Do you know that point, when someone you love and have known for a long time does something that breaks your trust, forever? It will never be the same. Do you know that point?
A parents’ love for a child is said to the strongest of all.
What pushes a parent to the point of breaking that trust? Or….. completely backing away, no more part of that child’s life. Detaching yourself.
When that trust is broken, an inseparable bond snaps, it can never be sewn back together exactly how it once was. You may get to know and love that person later on more that you ever did, but that little scar is still there.
Today, I mark this day. A bond, a trust, broken.
At first is hurts, you cry. You don’t understand. It’s like you have lost them forever.
I remember the first time.
You only get two chances. Only two hopes. Only two parents. At first you can’t believe it. Denial. Then it doesn’t hurt as much. Even when it happens again it doesn’t hurt as much.
The bond has already been broken.
You don’t remember the pain. You can’t understand why it hurt so much. Then you begin to trust again. But not unconditionally.
It gets better. Sometimes. My first didn’t. I only have one parent now. But now, today, I don’t know. I know one is lost, but maybe I have a chance.
What do I do?
A dandelion against the shed,
Yellow laboring soundless…
Quietly falls white-blond.
If there are such thing as angels
That save from above,
You are the devil
That showed me heaven
Through the gates of hell.
Saved from every fear
I’ve seen the devil’s cruel face.
Live through it and learn
But never forget
I destroyed myself for you,
Rebuilt myself for you,
Found everything because of you,
And almost lost everything too.
Dreaming gave me what I wanted
While you played with my heart.
Cuz like a cat and mouse
It’s your way
So, I stand in the wind,
Problems blow away;
I lie in the sun
and they melt into puddles.
Gentle sounds of water
Wash away the fears
And kiss everything below.
Submit to defeat;
Leave behind the mask
Because the whirlwind,
A vortex of chaos,
Love, don’t hate…
Forgive and don’t forget,
remember that feelin u had,
the one when this evil deed was done
think back upon the
to nvr let that happen to anyone u knew.
remember me in your next thought
and how this irony has unfold.
triple it by three...
one for the impact he left on my life,
the memories he boiled out of my locked soul.
And two for the peace you have placed in my heart,
o jesus be gentle with me.
And three, could you ever imagine wut we got
to and where we gone, so dang'rus 'n lust?
how i FEEL!
and on second thought,
is it worth
for his love?
Why is this the only reason
I do as you
Fear binds me
To a path I don’t want.
Will you yell at me
For 3 days straight
6 hours of screaming each
4 days of hate
Or drag me by my hair?
I don't want to go to church.
I'm sorry that I didn't do as you said, but
My arm burns
Where he scraped it against the table edge.
I don’t want to find
My self in a corner with a hand,
A foot plate in my back
Or a bed post by my head.
Anger irrationally hates.
So today I stay
In my bed,
My room where
I run, but you always follow.
Safe for the first time
Because he is no longer here
And you can’t get in.
Love to obsession;
love turned to rage and
a drowning pool.
Will fear really
Where is my mind,
I hear voices, my past, talking…
Insanity and my past comes alive,
Roller coasters of emotion.
The places where roller coasters echo are not
I remember this feeling,
This one right now… see my eyes, wide!
My future is to start again…
THE SAME, will it come again?
Don’t push me,
I might easily give in.
Hair as black as coal, straight, too straight;
She promises responsibility to God.
her children must know the right path, a godly one.
Her child loves me.
Empathetic eyes full of tears, so sad;
She is the door through which entered the Lord.
Her child loves me.
Lighthouses guide more than the lonely, lost boats.
Standing serene and strong.
A lot of love flows from mothers…
God’s children, forever.
It seems every time
In a wonderful place
It always falls apart.
Afraid of my past
The screaming kills
My heart! My soul!
Yell once more
Put me away
Make more pain
Push me over the line
Enraged the crying beast of me.
My only comfort from home
Tossed me back into misery.
I hated them
And they so called loved me.
They turn on me
They turn on me
Left alone to die
To wander in the dark
Emotion running high
The fire destroys my heart inside
From the ashes
Comes alive, a phoenix inside!!!
Come to me
O healing storm.
Jesus be gentle with me.
Let this new place
Of that fear
Of that old me.
Does a strawberry hide
A SECRET SELF
A blueberry’s pride
HAS A CRAZY MIND, BUT
Indian corn has an
OUTSIDE SO SWEET
AND HARMONY IN DEPTHS UNCOVERED.