tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575033166396526432024-03-13T09:25:53.407-04:00Musings of the MentalLizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-72168042908251840082020-05-27T00:19:00.002-04:002020-05-27T00:19:33.827-04:009 Years... Wow, has it really been 9 years since I last posted here?<br />
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Life got hectic and depressing, and I just couldn't even deal with the thought of doing anything with this blog. I had lots of extreme lows for a long time, but I did have some good times sprinkled in there. I am in a good place now. I have a wonderful psychiatrist, who I adore, and has helped me achieve a level of relative mental stability I haven't felt in a long time.<br />
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Mentally, I am pretty great. Physically, not so much. I have developed several chronic illnesses and chronic pain issues, which do contribute to bouts of depression and bouts of panic attacks. But, I have learned so many coping mechanisms to help lessen the severity of my lows and attacks, which is PROGRESS! I've come to learn progress is a byproduct of recovery and suffering leads to growth.<br />
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It hasn't been an easy, or pretty journey, and it still isn't over. This is a lifelong adventure. It might be fraught with perils and horrors, but it's mine. And I'm doing the best with what I have. I'm still here, and that's what's important. Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-39434098949069355962011-10-09T21:46:00.002-04:002011-10-09T21:54:10.934-04:00I'm Tired<ul><li>I can't sleep<br /></li><li>I'm tired<br /></li><li>I'm lethargic</li><li>I'm tired</li><li>I'm dizzy</li><li>I'm tired<br /></li><li>I hate laundry<br /></li><li>I'm tired</li><li>I hate cooking</li><li>I'm tired</li><li>I hate cleaning</li><li>I'm tired</li><li>I want a nap</li><li>I'm tired</li><li>I can't sleep</li></ul>Did I mention I'm tired?Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-4070700720120361462011-04-29T21:33:00.003-04:002011-04-29T21:53:13.605-04:00Hope Shines ThroughSo, I stopped taking that stupid medicine my idiot shrink gave me. I haven't taken it for 4 days now and every day I am starting to feel a little bit better. It was awful! Not only was it making me super depressed, but it was also making me extremely paranoid. I have also started to take my Xanax twice a day, like it says on the label, instead of 'as needed', and that too has really helped. I am way more mellow now, but I am still feeling slightly depressed. At this point I really don't care about that though, it beats feeling the way I did on that dumb medicine. Another horrible thing about it was it made me voraciously hungry, I had to force myself to not constantly munch, and I totally gained weight within a couple of weeks, my pants are snug. But now my appetite is back to normal and I have a little more energy. To sum everything up: the medicine sucked, my shrink is stupid, and I am feeling a little more hopeful about my situation.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-40787279200731523382011-04-28T00:53:00.003-04:002011-04-28T01:05:58.369-04:00Sigh...So, I don't think the new medication is working, I think it is only making it worse, so, I stopped taking it. I'm slightly less tired now, but I am still depressed, yet slightly manic at the same time (I'm tired, yet I can't sleep) :( <br /><br />What's a girl to do? <br /><br />I am thinking about going to a new shrink, mine just seems to want to push pills instead of listening to me and truly trying to figure out what would be best for me. Why does this whole process have to be so painstakingly difficult, especially for someone who can't gather up enough energy to do something about it. No wonder, most of us prefer to wallow and be trapped in our mental prison rather than actively seek help for it; it is so dang hard to find a good combo of shrink, therapist, and medication. <br /><br />You truly wouldn't believe what a nightmare it is. It makes one feel hopeless and helpless. And please, no "well, if you would just do this..." or "You should try this..." Let me have my pity party for now, believe it or not it can be constructive. The last thing a mentally ill person wants is to be treated like a helpless child or lazy bum. And no, I'm not talking about anyone in particular here, just generalizing. I hate the standard fix-it-all remedy that everyone tries to feed me, "Well, if you would jut get out and do something..." When people say that it truly means they don't get it and never will. Believe me that doesn't fix anything, it just gets me out of the house where I can feel miserable out in public (not a fun or desirable thing when I feel this way). <br /><br />Now there are times when I want to get out, and that is great, and when I feel that way it does make me feel better, but I have to feel well enough to have the energy to do so. Ah, it is all such a conundrum. Oh, well. Sorry for the rant, but I must admit I feel slightly better.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-74934445238427532012011-04-16T01:20:00.005-04:002011-04-18T10:07:15.437-04:00Whatever....Yeah, yeah, we all know I'm doing crappy when I write poetry, but let's just get over it, I know I have. I sort of have to since it's simply part of my life. And let's just hope my new medication works and pulls me out of this b.s. Yes, I'm not happy about all of this, can you blame me? So, blah, blah, blah, whatever. Make of it what you will.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Desert Sand</span><br />I feel lost, alone and hopeless<br />Trapped inside the abyss of myself<br />In this drowning desert sand.<br />I wander aimlessly, searching<br />Desperate to find the comfort of another<br />In this forsaken, friendless land.<br />But for all the doors I've opened<br />There is no one here to release me<br />From this selfish desert sand.<br />It's choking me, controlling me<br />Detaching me from the truth<br />All I need is a friendly, helping hand.<br />Though, no one hears my desperate cries<br />For my screams are weak and stifled<br />By this ever-shifting desert sand.<br />I struggle and I fight it<br />But in the end it's easier to give in<br />So, quietly I sink into, that desert dark and grand.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-60693604919731817352010-11-19T10:39:00.005-05:002010-11-19T10:46:49.808-05:00Random PoemOkay, don't everyone get worried (that means you mom), I'm not in a deep depression or anything this is merely a poem I found in my notebook that I'd forgotten I'd even written, so I thought I'd post it.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">The Darkness</span><br />The darkness has returned to me,<br />It's eating me alive,<br />It's staring down its nose at me,<br />And I feel like a child of five.<br />It chases me around and round,<br />But I cannot seem to flee.<br />And all too soon it has me bound,<br />Once again engulfing me.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-91073048828425716432010-10-06T14:36:00.003-04:002010-10-06T15:03:19.365-04:00Going through WithdrawalI had been on a manic high for a while, where I felt great, could get things done, and was simply happy. But now...I'm coming down. I don't like it when I come off a high. I feel like a druggie going through withdrawal. I'm starting to sink into the depths of my mental hell again and it sucks. Literally, I can feel it sucking at me, drawing me in, trying to eat me alive. The sad thing is, as much as I hate to be off my manic highs, I sometimes like my depressive lows because my writing tends to get a little more...creative, you might say. My writing becomes more colorful and vivid, more alive. My characters gain more depth. Possibly because when I am so down they seem to run rampant and be a little closer to the surface than they probably should be. Huh, I really think I am going crazy. Well, at least it could be worse, I suppose. I could be foaming at the mouth, lolling my head around, rocking back-and-forth, pumped full of meds, kind of crazy instead of the level of craziness I've already seemed to have achieved. If that ever happens to me I hope I'm just far enough along in my mental hell to not know what the hell is going on. On that note, have a great day!Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-81951683729236674472010-08-17T09:55:00.002-04:002010-08-17T10:22:20.943-04:00Imaginary FriendsI really feel like I have gone completely insane, but maybe this happens to everyone in the world of writers. I have this imaginary world inside my head, where all my imaginary friends abound. They are the characters from stories I have written, ones I am working on, and ones begging me to write about them. <br /><br />Whenever my muse (the driving force that makes my imagination flow and demands that I write) comes to visit this world and my friends in it seem to take over my brain. I tend to zone out during the day, I'm super spacey (well, more than usual) and all I can think about are the many stories I can create, the different scenario's and character's I can bring to life on paper or in a Word document. <br /><br />I go through the day with this pressing at the back of my mind and sometimes it consumes me and I simply have to stop what I am doing and jot notes down, or dialogue that pops into my crazy brain. So, I always carry a notepad with me, and I even have one beside my bed, because sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night with an idea and I have to write it down or else it bugs me and I can't get back to sleep.<br /><br />So, am I crazy or just an eccentric author? Maybe both? Whatever the situation, I really don't mind. My imaginary world is a fun, intriguing place and my imaginary friends who reside there are full of surprises and happy that I am able to tell their stories. My favorite out of all of them has to be Mael. He is the most dynamic character I have ever written and he demands that I share more about him; which is becoming a fun project. <br /><br />Well, there you have it; a glimpse into my crazy mind. I wish I could let you visit, but then I also enjoy having my own private paradise that I can escape to whenever life gets overwhelming and dreary. I think everyone should have their own mental oasis.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-50921856920316248242010-07-12T11:56:00.002-04:002010-07-12T12:40:20.598-04:00Arrrrrgh!This blog has now officially become a place for not only my poetry, but also my own personal, crazy rantings. So, here is my tirade of the day. Why does everything have to go to crap all at once? It's totally irritating. I am so stressed right now that I can't see straight. I am so tired that I feel like a zombie waiting to fall over because I've died again from becoming so ragged and run-down, yet I still have to do my job of mommy and wife. I am embarrassed because I've had to ask my family for help and rely on them for pretty much everything. I can't keep anything straight or together, I feel like my life is falling apart all around me and I can't do anything to stop it. I am a helpless pawn in some cruel, sadistic game of a madman living in his mom's basement, laughing at my constant misfortune and continually hefting more upon me, merely because it amuses him. I just want to scream, like that would make it better or something. If it would then I'd do it in a heartbeat, well, I have done some, in private. Letting out a sonic scream while you're alone in the car can do wonders.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-57854414910348554932010-07-07T13:08:00.002-04:002010-07-07T13:27:36.192-04:00Whatcha Gonna Do?So, I feel like a complete failure. I went to see my psychiatrist the other day and he had to up my dosage because I haven't been doing too hot recently, and because of that I feel like I have failed in my struggle to get better. I know that is just my illness speaking, making me think that, but that was how I felt, and still sort of feel. I'd been doing so good for almost a year, and then everything just went down hill and almost went to crap again. Can I ever catch a break? <br /><br />I was so proud of myself for doing so well for so long and now I feel like I've let everyone down. The whole time I was in his office I just cried, and then kept apologizing for crying. And I couldn't even explain why I was crying. It is so frustrating, usually people like me have triggers that cause their episodes, but not me, not really; I of course have to be the lucky (or unlucky) oddball who just goes crazy at random. Well not crazy, that is a negative thing for me to say, more like I lose control of my thoughts and emotions, and sometimes actions. I get super irritable for no reason at all, or I get super weepy. Sometimes I get into a slump where all I can do (if I remarkably get out of bed) is sit on the couch like a gelatinous blob and stare off into space, completely sad and lost in my own mind. <br /><br />It's terrible, and those who have never experienced it really have no idea what I go through and cannot grasp the intense sadness I almost forced to feel. My mind works against me in the worst way imaginable, telling me I'm worthless, or that others are judging me because of the way I am, or that I'm a waste of space and might as well off myself just to spare others from dealing with the burden of my presence. Sometimes I want to just shout and scream at everyone to just leave me alone, or cry uncontrollably as if that would explain everything to them, explain the hurt and pain I experience. I just want to...want to what? <br /><br />Sometimes I don't even know what I want. I just get so overwhelmed with life, and the demands (as minimal as they are) that are expected of me. And I know everyone has to deal with demands and frustrations, and sadness. But they aren't forced to deal with it the way I am, and they would break if they were. So there you have it, I feel like a failure for something I can't even control, pretty stupid isn't it? But that's how I feel. In other words, whatcha gonna do?Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-6439152925703904852009-07-28T21:23:00.002-04:002009-07-28T21:26:30.296-04:00Just a reminderJust wanted to let everyone know that what you see right here on this page is not all of my stuff, if you want to read all my poems, remember to click on the older posts link toward the bottom of the page, or go to the link on the right-hand side and click on the previous months. Thanks for all the support and encouragement.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-38965032696285892772009-05-09T10:22:00.002-04:002009-05-09T10:30:35.928-04:00ExpectationsPeople think I'm happy because I smile,<br />But how much more can I fake,<br />Before everyone else's expectations of me,<br />Finally, make me break.<br />To you I'm an ordinary girl,<br />Living an ordinary life,<br />But inside I am dying,<br />From this constant inner strife.<br />So when I'm doing well,<br />Please, be considerate and gentle,<br />Because inside I'm still fragile,<br />For my disease is internal, mental.<br />I know it's hard to understand,<br />How someone's thoughts can so control them,<br />Completely cripple and disable,<br />Turn upside-down the world they live in.<br />But it does and it's scary,<br />And it's hard when no one understands,<br />But being there for me can do wonders,<br />Because your support loosens my mental bands.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-12254179985505011872009-03-25T18:54:00.002-04:002009-03-25T19:14:10.000-04:00The way I used to feelI found this in my little notebook I always carry with me. I use it to write down how I'm feeling, thoughts, ideas, stuff like that. And I found this entry from a while ago, and it pained me to read about how horrible I used to feel. Anyway, here is what I'd written:<br /><br /> I recently had a very bad week. It was just one thing after another, back to back. I had a mini-breakdown, I just couldn't deal with it all anymore. My husband called my parents and asked them to come over, because he didn't know what to do. I didn't know that he'd called them until they arrived. I just laid in bed and my mom held me. <br /> One of the realizations I'd had that was my breaking point was the fact that I will have to deal with this for the rest of my life, it will never just go away, and there is really nothing anyone can do to help save me from myself. Sure, they can be there fore me, and sure, I can go to counseling, but nothing will ever take it all away. There will always be this horrible sadness, waiting in the depths of my mind, to one day completely devour me. This is what broke me, this is what terrified me, this was my realization. <br /> My husband had asked if there was anything he could do for me and I simply burst into tears saying, "There's nothing anyone can do for me, no one can take this away." <br /> I just get so tired of having to deal with it all, of keeping myself in check. I just get so tired. So I guess my real question is: How do you hide from something you can never escape? How do you ignore the enormous elephant in the room that no one else can see? How do you cope when you feel like you're sinking inside yourself?<br /> Sometimes, I feel like no one understands. It's like standing in the middle of a crowded room screaming at the top of your lungs and nobody can hear you. You're drowning in yourself and no one knows how to rescue you. <br /> What scares me most is that sometimes hospitalization doesn't sound like a bad thing. I would be able to rest and relax and not have to worry about anything. And then I am mortified for even thinking such a thing, worrying about how that would affect my family and those I love.<br /> Sometimes I just want someone to be able to fix me, to pick up the broken pieces and place them where they belong. But since we don't live in a perfect world, I won't delude myself with any thoughts of a cure. I know everyone has their struggles and no one has it easy, or is happy all the time, but I would just like to be normal and experience those feelings without an overwhelming sense of dread and despair.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-51577805763683073412009-03-09T17:42:00.002-04:002009-03-09T17:46:29.291-04:00Reflected In MeOh, my sweet friend,<br />Where did you go?<br />What happened to the girl,<br />I used to know?<br />The light in your eyes,<br />Has become dull and gray.<br />Leaving your stare,<br />Seeming somewhat faraway.<br />But the solace you seek,<br />In that distant place.<br />Can’t find a way around,<br />The darkness you taste.<br />I see the desperation,<br />Filling your eyes.<br />Begging me to free you,<br />From your self-inflicted lies.<br />Despair has reared its ugly head,<br />Consuming, all you used to be.<br />And now when you look,<br />You no longer see,<br />The real you deep inside,<br />Who was once happy and free.<br />You feel you have lost her,<br />And she’ll never return.<br />But fear not, my sweet friend,<br />For the truth is simple you see.<br />Because reflected in my eyes,<br />You’ll find the real you, in me.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-16256789219614178752009-01-11T20:04:00.002-05:002009-01-11T20:08:39.745-05:00Feeling Great!So I have been on my new meds for a month now and I feel fantastic! I feel so good in fact that I am having writers block when it comes to my poetry b/c I'm just not feeling that way anymore. So for a while you'll probably just here a lot of random rambling from me. :)Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-50678757769691649342008-12-26T18:43:00.002-05:002008-12-26T18:58:40.544-05:00Status updateSo, I was finally able to get in to see a psychiatrist (which is like trying to go ice-skating in hell). I have been officially diagnosed with bipolar II disorder; which means I don't have the severe mania that is associated with bipolar I, I just get extremely irritable, can't sleep, and have racing thought which they call hypo-mania. Then, when I hit the lows, I hit the extreme lows. Fun stuff, right? Anyway, so that is what's going on with me. I was taken off one of my anti-depressants and had the other cut in half on the dosage. I was also put on a mood stabilizer which helps balance out my highs and lows. I am feeling a whole lot better now. I actually feel like a normal human being. I am able to be happy just because I'm happy. There doesn't have to be a reason for my happiness. I am able to actually do stuff, like take care of myself, my daughter, and my house. The dishes and laundry are finally getting done and the house is able to stay somewhat tidy (or at least as tidy as a three-year old will allow it to be). The only problems I've had have been adjusting to my new meds. I have a low tolerance with prescription meds and so for the first week I was super loopy and goofy. It seemed like I was high on something or was totally trashed. But my body has adjusted and now I just feel good.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-83922629425827166142008-12-26T18:30:00.002-05:002008-12-26T18:43:47.479-05:00What's normal?What does everyone think about as they sit in the sterile, clean, waiting room? Do they all wonder if they're the only ones with any problems? Have any of them tried to commit suicide? They all look normal enough, but what are they hiding? What deep dark secrets do they hold? One woman looks extremely nervous as though she feels she doesn't belong here. One man seems completely indifferent, like he really doesn't care if he gets better or simply blows someone's brains out the back of their head. The last man looks confused and slightly irritated, like he knows he needs to be here, but hates the fact that he is. And me, you might ask? Well, I know I need to be here. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to be, but we don't always get what we wish for. The people behind the desk busy themselves with their work, pretending that us waiting room people are perfectly normal; no crazies here! Yet, sometimes I wonder what normal is. Everyone has their little quirks, but where do you draw the line? Some people go to therapy to find meaning in their lives, others actually have issues, while some just want attention. Me? Well, I fit into the "actually have issues" category. A cocktail of medications and therapy keep me balanced and happy, without them, well its just not a pretty sight.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-17059394445176954872008-12-16T22:06:00.001-05:002008-12-16T22:06:49.429-05:00Inside Me It ScreamsWhen you look at me, what do you see?<br />Do you see someone you like, or wish to be?<br />When I look at myself, do you know what I see?<br />I see a frightened child staring back at me.<br />Behind this mask of a face is what I won’t let you see,<br />Because the truth of what’s there is too ill to conceive,<br />A living thing of darkness has come to be.<br />Stretching and twisting it grows like a tree.<br />Inside me it screams as it tries to break free,<br />But how do you face a demon you can’t see? <br />It’s easier to pretend that you just don’t believe.<br />So behind a mask of splendor I hide the real me,<br />Because what’s underneath is too disturbing to see.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-73778257945579089572008-12-01T22:58:00.002-05:002008-12-01T23:20:06.521-05:00Candy CottageOnce upon a time there was a girl<br />She lived in a beautiful cottage made of candy<br />But she was always asleep<br />Until one day she woke up<br />And all the walls came tumbling down<br />She cried out for help, but no one would listen<br />She was left trapped in the candy rubble<br />Wondering if she'd ever be saved<br />But as time passed, she remained unseen<br />And so the world grew weary of the girl,<br />Swallowing her up to be forever forgottenLizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-46051242725950537402008-12-01T22:42:00.002-05:002008-12-01T22:57:58.206-05:00She Sits AloneShe sits alone, day after day<br />wondering what might come her way.<br />Maybe true love, maybe romance,<br />maybe the ability to fly and dance.<br />She sits and she sits, wondering why<br />nothing yet has passed her by.<br />Little did she know if she'd taken the chance<br />she might have learned to fly and dance.<br />Instead, she sits alone, day in and day out<br />never to behold the world without.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-518961911866018332008-11-29T20:42:00.001-05:002010-03-15T23:03:32.296-04:00How to explain what we feel?Do you ever feel like you're standing in the middle of a crowded room screaming at the top of your lungs and still no one hears you? I do. It's so hard when no one can even guess or know what's going on unless you tell them. It's not like we've lost all our hair b/c of chemo or are deathly ill, or confined to a wheelchair or hospital bed. No, everything we deal with is internal, all in our mind. Our distorted way of thinking is hard for others to understand unless they have been through it. Everyone always thinks there should or needs to be a reason why we feel the depth of despair that we do. And then when they ask you to explain how you feel, you silently laugh. Do they really want to know? Should I really tell them? Well, they asked for it I guess, so here goes...<br /><br />It's like sinking inside yourself, drowning with no one there to save you. And then you reach that comfortable state, where you are at peace with your plight. You accept the fact that you are different, that you live in a different mind-set. Life just seems irrelevant as it passes you by, like you're watching a live action movie of your life. Slowly the feelings of others become less and less important, how can you focus on anything other than the black hole eating away at you from the inside out. You become consumed by your despair and let it overrun your mind, wreaking havoc on the rest of your life. And when you get to that point the only light at the end of the long dark tunnel seems to be death, the ultimate release. But you shy away from that prospect b/c of everything you've been taught. You crawl back through the darkness, sluggishly making your way back to the reality you left behind. You finally see the people around you again. The one's you love and who love you. How could you have thought death would solve everything when you have so much to live for here? There are so many people who love you and only now you realize how much. Finally, you let the walls come crashing down, you reach out to the people around you, timidly at first, but then you find yourself clinging to them, afraid that if you let go you will be sucked back into the darkness. You have to admit that you need help and can't do it on your own, and that can be the hardest part of all. You have to accept their help and let them love you and care for you. B/c without them you realize that you wouldn't even be here, that you wouldn't even care. But now there is hope and you do care. Even if that hope comes in the form of a medicine bottle and endless counseling. Isn't it worth it if you can be happy again, to actually feel something other than the aching numbness that you've been carrying around forever? You finally make a stand for yourself and even though it is very hard some days you have to admit that it's better than the nightmarish hell you used to live through. And so you resolve to do your best from day to day, knowing that if you do so you might finally reach that light at the end of the tunnel, but in a different more blissful way. And that is enough for you, that is enough to continue, that is enough to keep you alive.<br /><br />When you see the look on the other person's face that you have just explained this all too, you want to laugh and cry all at the same time. Their mouth hangs open and their eyes wide in disbelief that one person could truly feel such torment on a daily basis. But even though you have explained, they still don't really comprehend, no one can unless they've experienced it. They try, and bless their hearts for trying, and thank heaven they don't ever have to experience what we do. I wouldn't wish this silent hell on anyone, not even my worst enemy.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-32585275343771410952008-11-26T17:00:00.002-05:002008-11-26T17:01:24.190-05:00The LieHello, I’m the lie living for you so you can hide,<br />Safe, within the dark corners of your mind.<br />I go through the motions of your life,<br />No one will know if we do this right.<br />I flash a nice smile and no one’s the wiser,<br />While inside you’re dying, soon to expire.<br />But wait; what’s that, you want to be free?<br />Free of the bonds you created that’s me?<br />No, you need me; you can’t save yourself,<br />That’s why I’m here, you needed my help.<br />And so I’ll live for you, while you hide,<br />Deep within yourself, in me, your lie.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-74161996418334879002008-11-26T17:00:00.001-05:002008-11-26T17:00:54.090-05:00ElucidationHow can I explain to you, that this sadness is not your fault?<br />How can I say to you, that this despair is eating me whole?<br />How can I convey to you, that this emptiness is all I feel?<br />How can I admit to you, that death would be a sweet release?<br />How can I make clear to you, that my thoughts are not my own?<br />How can I explain to you, that what stands before you is not me?Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-89789462379264487432008-11-26T16:58:00.000-05:002008-11-26T17:00:05.679-05:00To Feel AgainIf you touch me I feel your hand<br />If you hug me I feel your love<br />If you kiss me I feel your passion<br />But inside I feel nothing<br />No flicker of joy lights my soul<br />My body feels empty, devoid of all that I am<br />And as I try to uncover what’s buried inside<br />I’m forced to face the other deep within<br />A blackness so complete, impenetrable to all<br />A void sucking at the essence of everything that’s me<br />How do I recover what’s lost in that black hole?<br />I fight my own thoughts from controlling my actions<br />This battle is tiring, this soldier exhausted<br />I wave my white flag in the darkness<br />Maybe surrendering won’t be so bad<br />But then I think of your touch, your hug, your kiss,<br />And again I make my stand<br />I long to feel those things you feel<br />The feelings I once enjoyed<br />So long I’ve been numb to all<br />To this emptiness deep inside<br />To feel again, the joy of life<br />The feelings I held so dear<br />This hope is what keeps me from succumbing<br />To feel again, is why I’m still here.Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857503316639652643.post-60027567842304504292008-11-26T16:28:00.000-05:002008-11-26T16:50:38.432-05:00Still Here<span style="font-family: lucida grande;">I’m still here; I’m just trapped inside,<br />Within my mind, is where I hide.<br />I can see you, can you see me?<br />Can you hear me crying, please set me free?<br />Running through the maze, that is my mind,<br />I search for an out, but there’s none I can find.<br />I’m lost in myself, my darkness swallowing me,<br />I reach out to you, pleading, but you can’t hear or see.<br />I’m still here; I’m still breathing,<br />Don’t give up on trying to free me.<br />I’m still here; I’m still me,<br />Even though this shell is all you see.<br />It breaks my heart to see your face,<br />Whenever I am in this place.<br />But I’m still here, I can still see,<br />Please, don’t ever give up on me.<br /><br /></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09455897260982604313noreply@blogger.com0