Tag Archive: Darkness


Hope is a “cap de pula”

“Hi! How are you?”

Those words… those words mean I have to bend the truth. I have to find a way to tell you what you what to hear. That I’m ok. That I’m doing good. Because you don’t really want to hear that I’m not. Again. So I show you that I’m good and I spend the day with a stupid smile and a happy positive vibe for you to see. And then later? I’m exhausted. I’m exhausted from the pretence. The 1 woman show that I’ve put on for everyone to see. From where I’ve worked so hard to have everyone thinking that I’m ok and that I’ve not failed again. And then despite feeling exhausted? I’m awake at night clawing at my mind like I claw at my skin. And the anxiety builds and the self doubt builds and the darkness wins a little more and I smile for everyone to see and I’m ok. And I fail. All I do is fail.

It’s not supposed to be like this. I’m supposed to have been able to kick it into touch by now. I’m supposed to have snapped out of it and stopped moping and whatever other words I’ve heard people say… the past is in the past, I’m not a child anymore… grow up and get on with it. I’ve heard it all. But some scars run deep. They fracture you and physically break something deep inside. Some broken children heal and others don’t. The ones that don’t turn into broken adults. And it’s not their fault they’re broken. It’s not my fault I’m broken. But to me? To me it’s my fault. I don’t want to be a failure. I don’t want to disappoint. So I’m ok. But I’m not… I’m tired of the games that my mind plays. I want out of it. I want to be rid of the thoughts, the memories, the flashbacks, but most of all? I want to be rid of the nightmares. The things I see when I sleep. Or the terror I feel on the odd occasion I go to the shop and hear someone with that tone of voice. I want to stop being afraid of everything and everyone. Sounds stupid? Yep I know. But it’s the truth. Looking back, I never used to be like this. This bad I mean. It started getting worse about 7 years ago. I don’t know what the catalyst was. But now I question every thing I do, think, and say. I judge myself so harshly that I don’t leave any of myself left for anyone else to judge. It’s said that we are our own worst critic. I rip myself apart before anyone else gets chance to realise just what a failure I am. Because if others found out that I was less? Then they would stay away. People hurt you. No one gets in therefore they can’t hurt me. Only I can hurt me.

Honestly? I’m tired of the whirlwind that is me. That is my mind. My thoughts. My feelings. My emotions… I’m tired of me. I’m tired of fake smiling. I want so desperately to give up and yet, there’s this tiny stupidly annoying little thing inside of me… this tiny little spark… its called hope. And as much as I loathe myself? Hope keeps shining. Hope refuses to give up. Hope keeps me going…

…sigh…

Depression/darkness/anxiety/whatever you wish to call it… they are strong and powerful things. But hope? That tiny little sparkling glimmer of hope? It’s the most powerful thing there is.

So… I’m going through bad days(again), My poems on here have stopped(again). But? I’ll be posting soon because? Hope doesn’t let me quit life.

411

Rollercoaster…

Emotions are a strange thing. I mean we need them they create a balance(supposedly), they allow us to express our feelings *picks up my mask* emotions are important(builds a wall around them). But… What happens when a person’s emotions become too unpredictable? What happens when they yoyo and become “wobbly” ? *calls in the demolition crew*

Imagine you’re on a rollercoaster. There are climbs, some to dizzying heights. There are swooping lows, some going so deep and down hill so fast that they are terrifying. There are loops and spins and thrills and anticipation and anxiety… then there are the parts where you’re just going in a straight line and you can’t see whats in front is it going to be a little dip? A little bounce? Or a sharp fall, like you’re free falling off the face of the earth? The straight becomes scary as you’ve no idea what’s going to happen. Anxiety builds in the pit of your stomach. Now imagine that the rollercoaster is in the dark with flashing lights and sounds and smells and memories blasted at you randomly, think of your biggest fears and worse nightmares, the depth defying soul crush despair and sadness and fear, but throw in happiness and laughter and light and warmth. Its all coming at you. Now add the fact the rollercoaster is going backwards so you just can’t see what’s going to happen next. Feel sick yet? Welcome to how my emotions are affecting me.

I feel like I’m currently walking a tightrope and I’m wobbly… I’m on that straight bit on the rollercoaster and I’m scared. I don’t want to drop back into the depths because that seems to be the only place I go this year. I don’t get enough happy climbs. I know what you’re going say… if I want to be happy? I need to think happy. I need to change what’s making me unhappy. I’m telling you that it’s just not that simple and I can hear you saying that it is… its not. And I really want to explain why its not that simple but you’ll never understand and if I opened myself up enough to explain why? Then I’m letting you in and I can’t let people in because people hurt you. I don’t want to be hurt. I’ve been hurt so many times. I’d rather keep everyone out and not be hurt. I know what you’re thinking… That’s a sad way to be. But it’s not. It’s not because my fear of having that fragile child within me hurt again outweighs everything. To the outside world I’ve got my shit together, I’m just about always smiling. I’m quiet. But people never get in. No one gets near that fragile glass center that is me. Eccedentesiast. That’s me.

Here is different. Here on this blog, this space… its my safe place. Here there are no walls and I write. The most fragile form of me is here in the posts on my space. I crumble and build. Here I show I can give the love I so desperately crave back. Here I can rip my veins open and let my mind, heart and soul pour out. Here it doesn’t matter if I’m held together with broken string some days and good intentions others. Because Here I am safe.

So… here in my little safe place I have decided to make a nest of blankets and pillows and soft stuffs. You’re most welcome to come and get comfy. If you’re having a bad day? Come snuggle in. Don’t worry if you don’t want to talk. I don’t mind because I understand what bad days are like. If you just want a safe place to sleep? Here’s an extra pillow because I know how difficult sleep can be. If you need someone to listen? I’m here… oh… you don’t want to share with a female. That’s ok! See that guy with his head buried in a book? He’s like you. I’m sure he’ll listen. The point is that this right here? We don’t judge here. We won’t look at you with pity. We understand what it’s like to crumble and build ourselves. We understand the darkness and desolation. We understand the need for peace and quiet(and extra soft stuffs to get comfy in).

Now I’ve left you my thoughts… I’m going to leave you some songs. These I’ve just taken from my list that has played while I’ve written. I’ll try to give YouTube links for all of them. If there’s one thing I love? It’s music so I’m always open to a new song and I listen to every genre(not that this list is going to be varied). Here goes…

There you go… 12 songs in the order they played on my playlist as I wrote/stared off into space…

Sending you all a hug.x.

406

D.V.

Trigger warning ⚠️

Domestic violence.

The simplest touch
the softest word,
All those sweet nothings
the love that I heard,
Time it moved on
and I fell in love,
Thought you were the best
a gift from above,
As time it moved on I
lost friend after friend,
Til you were my start
and you were my end,
Then came the accusing
of every guy I saw,
And I never even realised
controlling more and more,
The first time you hit me
i felt such a disgrace,
So much mess and so much glass
blood all over the place,
You told me I was nothing
as you slammed closed that door,
And I laid dazed and hurt
amid the mess on the floor,
Time it moved on
those hands nearly every day,
And then after how much you loved me
in each and every way,
More time and we had children
they’re my lights I don’t regret,
Then that day with the axe
imprinted I can’t forget,
More years and that table
the spade car poker knife,
That night with the car between us
blood pouring begging for my life,
That was when I realised
that I had to leave,
You weren’t letting up
there was no reprieve,
Now for 2 years
we’re not together,
Although you still want
a me and you forever,
You say if you can’t have me
then no one else can,
And you repeat this often
but get it your not my man,
I am not weak
and you will not win….

This poem is inspired by someone else’s true life story. No… I am NOT tarring every man with the same brush and women are just as much likely to be the abuser, but because of the stigma attached to domestic violence against males? Its less likely to get reported. Abuse is abuse. I don’t care who you are. Don’t degrade another, everyone deserves love, safety, happiness and the simple necessities that give a good quality of life. Okay… even I have a couple of exceptions to that and I’m honest enough to admit them… If you’re a rapist or if you in any form hurt a child/children? You get what you get and hell would be too good of a blessing for you.

Soooo… don’t read this and bitch about the subject matter. I will write about every and any subject. Infact I think I might do a couple of writing posts to show that despite the fact I’m half the picnic short of a picnic and definitely have more than a few screws loose, I can write.

Immortal you’re Immortal

here you never grow old,

Immortalised in the depths of love

here you’re never cold,

Writing you

into every line on every page,

Your the blood pour down my arms

passionate rage,

and I search every star

but none can compare,

I begged the moon to free me

but you’re imprinted there,

I’ve heard say when a poet loves you

it’s madness,

You’re my every emotion

my euphoria and sadness,

I burn for you

an out pouring declaration,

You’re my

inspiration medication liberation,

The blood pours down my arms

soul screeching raw,

Oblivious to the chaos around me

need you more and more,

You’re my muse my addiction

my delirious desire,

You set me alight

a conflagration great fire,

You set me in my place

break me free,

You define my boundaries

push this whirlwind that is me,

My embers

you flame and spark,

You fan my flames higher

explosions in the dark,

A poet will love you with madness

you’re a lifeline in chaos abyss,

You take my breath and break me down

utter heartbeat miss,

You give me blissful

memories,

Your my sun my sky

my grass flowers trees,

Every thought that plagues my mind

when I don’t sleep,

You encircle me with loving words

and with promises to keep,

My soul pours out

with sweet words of love,

I worship and adore you

heaven sent from above,

They say when poets love

its madness in their soul,

But my King my love my heart

you complete me make me whole,

Immortal you’re immortalised

on every page between the words on every line,

You are my love my soul

my hearts beat just mine,

My madness my chaos

you bring me to my knees,

My endless nirvana my destiny fate

my whirlwinds breeze,

You are the madness

deep inside my heart,

My euphoric inspiration medication liberation

your my spark,

Its you

only you always you,

My fated my destiny

my heart my song so true,

You’re the blood in my veins

the air that I breathe,

The calm inside my madness

my release when I’m begging please,

I am the poet

and I bleed for you,

Immortalised

in lovers words so true…

.x.

Mental health… everyone seems to be talking about it just lately. It’s on the news, in adverts, all over the Web. You’ll find something about it in every place you can think of. We’re encouraged to talk about. It’s on the rise in all age groups. All ethnicities and it doesn’t care where or how you live. We’re encouraged to talk about it.

I don’t want to talk about it. Or more specifically, I don’t want to admit just how bad things have got. Last tear I could still wing it. Last year yeah, it was bad. It’s an endless yoyo a constant battle but I could function.

This year has been worse… this year I got talked out of commiting suicide, I had everything ready, no going back(thanks M). Now I think about suicide at least once a week. My brain thinks about the perfect way to do it with no comebacks but so that I’m not in anyone’s way or so that I make a mess(like going by train or taking a dive off something). I’m telling you, planning a murder is easier, and I planned one!(for a story!!). Every for every step I take forward? I either take as many or more backwards. This year I’m tired of fighting the darkness. I’m 41years old and ok I definitely don’t act it(adulting is a trap!), shit… 41years old and my whole life has been spent fighting something I can’t even see.

This year its changed too… I dread going out. Just the thought makes my skin crawl. And I’m trying so hard to still do it. Do 1 thing every day that scares you. And people? I’ve never really done people. People are the scariest things on earth. But now? I’d rather do anything than have to be around or near people. People are NOT safe. I guess if your reading this? You mind jumped to covid. Nope your wrong. When I say not safe? I mean because people hurt you. I don’t want to be hurt any more. My thinking is that it’s best to just give up on people but that’s where it’s tricky because naturally I want to help others. …sigh… I’m tired of getting hurt. I’m tired of being proved right that if you let someone in? They’ll hurt you. Me? Even when I’m completely falling apart? I will never ask for help. That’s not my way. I could be crumbling and still crawl on and you won’t know.

Why am I writing? I don’t even know at this point… I just am. My rules for my blog come back to me every time I hit the WordPress app icon on my phone… always be truthful. This space is yours. Your 1 safe place. A place no one can judge you or if they do? Who cares? It’s not your neighbour(either of them), no one that follows you lives on your street. This is as the blog says, an empty space. A space for you to write your mind out. So here I am. Having spent the last few days having episodes of crying so hard I’m throwing up and walking around with the headache from hell and muscle cramps(probably from the crying,throwing up and lack of liquid intake). But right here right now I’ve got a cup of chamomile tea which is cold and I’ve still only drunk half despite going and zapping it twice. Here I am still outwardly holding my shit together and hiding how I feel from the entire house. Why? Because in this house I have no choice, I have to be the strong one.

Right now I despise myself. I know that I’m a let down hiding in plain sight. I have judged myself and know that I am less. I know that this world really would be a better place if I had never been brought into this world. But at the same Time? There’s this ridiculously stupid dumb part of me that says that these feelings are because of the darkness and why do I let it win? I don’t let it win. I just don’t want to be afraid anymore. I don’t want to be alone anymore. I need a fucking hug and for someone to tell and to mean it when they say they are there for me and that I mean something to them. I need to feel loved. But I need to believe its true. The only one I ever believe cares and is there for me is the darkness. Depression gives the tightest hugs and I just want a hug. Depression will always stand beside me. In a fucked up way? It never leaves and I that there? That is what I need. I need someone who won’t leave because everybody leaves because in my fears I push them all away and let nobody in. But Depression doesn’t listen. It’s always here and envelopes me in its hugs washing me in darkness.

I know I have a problem. But admitting and knowing are two very different things.

…sigh… for today I give up…

Writing to a song…

Written to a Nickelback song. About suicide and depression because my brain took 8 words of the song and decided thats the way its going.

~…No freedom…~

Dark body

darker sky,

One quick deep cut

say goodbye,

Blood slips down

White sheets turn red,

Soaking into

this once clean bed,

Breathing shallower

barely there,

Empty pill bottle beside you

your almost there,

A ghost walking hallways

in this damn house,

You’ve screamed so loudly

yet your silent like a mouse,

There’s so much noise

inside your head,

You crave the silence

better off dead,

Depression anxiety

you’re alone spiralling down,

Everythings got to much

its making you drown,

Vision is fuzzy

your fading almost time,

Heart gives in to much struggle

flatline,

And your here

stood beside your bed,

Look down at glassy eyes

empty vessel gone dead,

Now you’ll get peace

you smile and say,

But its not gonna happen

things aren’t going your way,

The screaming is louder

there’s nowhere to hide,

The darkness more vivid

everythings on the slide,

You thought you be free

you were so wrong,

You’re a ghost in this houses hallways

and the nightmares know your song…x.

Rebuilding 1 block at a time…

I crashed last month. Like always? I didn’t see the signs until after. Like always I hid how much I cried, hid that I didn’t want to breathe any more. I planned in detail again just how I’d do it. I’ve got a quick fool proof way. No come backs. No doctor will save me. But its just thoughts. Its what happens when I get that low. I know there’s some name for it. Where you plan it but have no intention to actually do it. I seem to purposely break myself and shatter my own defenses every time I try to build them. Honestly I’m tired of this game. So damn tired. I’m tired of building myself back up and pretending that I’m always ok. I’m tired of always showing the world a smile, and im known for it… that stupid smile. Its there hiding me behind it.

Right now I feel numb. No emotion is hitting me hard enough to get through. I’m just sitting here in my mind slowly building these glass shards up one by one. You’d think by now I’d have cut myself so many times that I’d build with something stronger. But no… I’d rather walk on broken glass apparently…

But you see? This is the thing with depression. It hits us all in different ways. Its sets us apart but in being apart we are together(these are my thoughts remember). It torments us with sweet nothings. Promises of things being better if we just give in and let that dark gray soft depressive cloud envelope us in its warm embrace. But they’re not better. They never are. And yet so many of us give in again and again. Are you tired like me? Because I’m so damn tired of all this.

I want to be better. I want to be like everyone else. I don’t want to have to fight the feeling that my skin is trying to crawl off me every time I’m around people. I dont want to keep being afraid of people and places with lots of them. I dont want outs to my anxiety to be to claw my skin on my arms until I make it bleed(I’m working hard on finding ways to not do this including living in t-shirts no matter the weather because I cant hide it). I’ve often said over the years that I want to be normal. But what’s normal? To the outside world I appear to function fine. So therefore? I must be fine. I must be normal… Please remind me of this next time I’m on the bathroom floor crying so hard I can hardly breathe all while trying to make no sound so no one knows what I’m doing. Remind me of it when my own mind turns against me and drags me down shattering every hope I have, leaves me a broken jaggard mess. Remind me then that I’m normal. Because those times I forget…

So here I am. Back to the now. And I’m here. I’m starting to feel words again so I know I’m coming back. I’m building enough and fighting the numb enough and not just floating in it because floating in numb is easy and since when did I ever take the easy road anyway? I can’t quite catch the words yet to make poems. But I will. I have hope. When I have nothing else inside me? I always find a way to have hope. And sometimes things get so dark in my mind. But still always there is hope. Hope plants seeds. Hope can grow a blade of grass or a mountain…

Look at me here littering this page with my thoughts… I feel I’d have made more sense if I’d just grabbed a tin of alphabet spaghetti and played scrabble with it(now there’s an idea!). But I stick to the promise I made for this page… be open. Honest. Who cares if they think your a fruitloop? You’ve never eaten one so does it matter? The point is I’m real.

I’ve just seen something fluffy walk into the room and meow(well he makes a sound that sounds like “no”), in my direction… I’m going to say hello and touch the uber fluffiness because no one can deny a cat…

Hugs to you all at the end of the wire.x.

~ Show me…. ~

​….show me 

the ruins of your soul,

I’ll show you they’re not ruins

you are whole,

Show me this darkness

that you hide,

I’ll show you

your brilliance inside,

You tell me I’ll leave

from your decay,

I’m telling you your amazing

and I’ll stay….

.x.

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