Empty Victory – PTSD

“Often it isn’t the initiating trauma that creates seemingly insurmountable pain, but the lack of support after.”
S. Kelley Harrell, Gift of the Dreamtime – Reader’s Companion 
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Bend beneath and swerve around
All my troubles utter one great sound
Pulling the tapestry of life apart
Never in silence until I depart
Standing firm under a heavy break
Looking over the edge, a fall to take
Final swings in battles won
Left to victories empty sun
Laying all down in a sleepless bed
Battle scars never leave my head

The Battle is Me

“Confront the dark parts of yourself, and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. Your willingness to wrestle with your demons will cause your angels to sing. Use the pain as fuel, as a reminder of your strength.”August Wilson


Cataclysm-x

“My hand breaks my bones

My thoughts accuse and torment
My enemy is I, armies of Me bring enmity
Against my dichotomy, my duality

Where can I go from this fate?
Where can I flee from this destiny?
Where is the peace from battles fought?
When my worst foe, is my deepest thought” – DMW
There is a struggle that exists in my mind. Unseen enemies launch terroristic attacks against my peace and tranquility. Serenity dies a martyr’s death at the hands of hooded mercenaries. These are not physical combatants, they exist only in my mind. Hiding from this warfare is not possible, the fight follows me everywhere. Making advancements at great expense to my happiness, I press against them. The end waits, the war’s final battle. There are no options, no choices, other than to persevere and prevail in the battle against me, my own worst enemy.

The Battle is Me

“Confront the dark parts of yourself, and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. Your willingness to wrestle with your demons will cause your angels to sing. Use the pain as fuel, as a reminder of your strength.”August Wilson


Cataclysm-x

“My hand breaks my bones

My thoughts accuse and torment
My enemy is I, armies of Me bring enmity
Against my dichotomy, my duality

Where can I go from this fate?
Where can I flee from this destiny?
Where is the peace from battles fought?
When my worst foe, is my deepest thought” – DMW
There is a struggle that exists in my mind. Unseen enemies launch terroristic attacks against my peace and tranquility. Serenity dies a martyr’s death at the hands of hooded mercenaries. These are not physical combatants, they exist only in my mind. Hiding from this warfare is not possible, the fight follows me everywhere. Making advancements at great expense to my happiness, I press against them. The end waits, the war’s final battle. There are no options, no choices, other than to persevere and prevail in the battle against me, my own worst enemy.

A Whispered Confession – Exasperation of temptation

A friend called the other day, confiding in me some very deep thoughts. I thought I would share them with you, point blank, and in the first person. Here is his voice…
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A soul is born with certain, shall we say, tendencies. Some good, some bad, but it behooves us to know which way our inner man leans. Myself, I lean toward dark and violent. That’s all I was exposed to growing up. Love, acceptance, belonging, and positive thoughts were not part of my environment. My sails are now set, with this nurture of darkness, to be driven on seas were men ought not find themselves. My struggle forever set to battle not against ordinary tendencies, but against hugely deviant and depraved paths. 

In my adventures I’ve come across souls such as myself, they brought me huge pleasure as I saw the wake they made through their blackened seas. I conferred with one, telling him how I admired the fear he inspired in any crowd. He looked at me with forlorn eyes, “I wish to be like you” he confided. Tired of being feared, tired of being constrained by the course his sails set him on, he wished to be compassionate and feel, to engage normally with strangers and innocents. But, he said, telling me the way to path I wished, “if you wish to be like me, you only need touch the hate in your heart. You can be the baddest, if you hate.” At that time, I denied and refused my hate, my whole being swallowed up in the religious pretense of love. I knew what I was destined to be, but I hid it in the grand facade of religion. His words stuck with me. Now, I have a contradiction raging in me. I should be, an abuser, a murderer, a violent and unmerciful man engaged in many other criminal activities. But, I encountered God. I embraced Him out of fear of my path. Still I hold on to his hand, knowing what I can be, what I was supposed to be. Swinging way past center, I find myself soft, and complacent, letting people go when they should be punished and resisted.

This is where I find myself, the hate rising, demanding my attention, telling me to act according to my destiny, but, God stops me, guiding me in a different way. I am so tired of the battle. Tired because people don’t quit, they keep pushing, disrespecting, and teasing, mocking me. The expression, “going postal”, bears relevance. There are persons in society who finally snap. They seem mellow, gentle, placid and weak. Then, they flip the script and kill. Kill many, kill few, but kill nonetheless. Everyone shakes their head in disbelief. How can this happen? I know how this can happen, it happens in me every day. Having not killed, not pillaged, does that make me weaker? Or stronger? Having resisted those impulses and being kind and forgiving, where does that leave me? 

This argument is moot at this point. My breaking point is near. I can stand no more insults to my manhood. No more disrespect to my humanity. No more glaring down the nose, daring me to act looks. I’m shoved, and it builds. I’m ripped off and it builds. What they don’t understand is, is, that, I am nothing like how I look, how I have made myself appear. I am evil, violent, malevolent, and disgusting. How much more Lord, will you make me bear before I come apart. I can stand no more. Be prepared you sly cons who think you have me pegged. Something evil this way lurks.

Over Under Two – Stuck in the game of love

“She didn’t belong anywhere and she never really belonged to anyone. And everyone else belonged somewhere and to someone. People thought she was too wonderful. But she only wanted to belong to someone. People always thought she was too wonderful to belong to them or that something too wonderful would hurt too much to lose. And that’s why she liked him– because he just thought she was crazy.” – C. JoyBell C

I loved one, but didn’t know

until she left, it didn’t show


I loved another, but I knew
She left, it only grew

I now loved two, both the same
I’m stuck, love trying to tame

It’s like someone turned on the lovefaucet in my soul. Feelings I never had before, now come rushing in. Not just in one case, but in many. I thought I could feel this way for only one person. I now find out that what I’m feeling can be replicated in others. What the heck is going on in my psyche? What are these feelings? Can you love more than one person at a time? How do you follow your heart if it be given to several ways at once? What is the criteria then? If the golden rule is to follow your heart, what will be the rule now that the heart is divided? Or is it really divided? Perhaps you can share that love with others at will. What if I had a barrier that prevented love from coming to the surface, and now, it broke, allowing an overflow of it to pour into my life? A sudden rush, a flood. Questions cannot be answered, love will not allow it, forcing itself on my mind in spite of logic. It remains only to experience its joys and sorrows in the here and now of today.

Addendum: When confronted with two ways, both of which are good, follow the way which leads to greater peace.


Also published in Life As A Human Magazine


At War With Me – Inside the mind of schizophrenia

Schizophrenia cannot be understood without understanding despair.” – R. D. Laing
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Alone again, sitting on the edge of shattered dreams

Looking out across the littered landscape
On surreal castaway emotions
Lining up for the battle, players in full effect
No penalty getting called, game plan checked
Time for confrontation
Many people in the same head, crowded conditions
Please raise your hand before speaking
Miserable summations.
We say I’m crazy, I believe we got it right
My friends in my head, they speak at once
Which part of we is normal?

Is this me or we?

 Also published in Broowaha
01122013

Dead Tree? – Appearances can be deceiving

 “A cold wind was blowing from the north, and it made the trees rustle like living things.” – George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones
 

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The tree throws off its leaves, drawing in its energy, preparing for the battle.

It appears dead and for many months, no life appears.
But beneath the surface, vitality runs, coursing through its toughness.
Don’t be fooled by the appearance of fallen leaves,
for deep in the coldness the tree yearns. Soon
the leaves will return and I will
find shelter under the branches
of what appeared
to be, a dead
tree.