Saturday, January 29, 2022
Almost Caught Up
Designed to Dehumanize (2/19/2019)
Garden (5/14/2019)
I stand at the entrance of the garden with my eyes closed, I want to savor every minute of the experience, for tomorrow, I will be in another time and space, and these moments in this garden will be gone for good. I removed my socks and shoes before entering, so my entire being could feel the essence of this wonderful place.
I step carefully onto the warm stone path. I can feel the sun shining on my face, but the stone is still cool from last night's rain. The stones are smooth, and I sit down carefully. Sliding cautiously to my right, my arm bumps gently into the low stone barrier that keeps the overflow contained. I reach out carefully, touching the ridged leaves and feeling their shape, caressing the soft flower petals, and noticing the prickly grass below.
I can no longer contain myself. I MUST open my eyes. I stand and slowly turn, so I can see the whole garden. There is a brilliant array of color, and the dazzling sunshine hurts my eyes for just a short moment. I don't have enough plant knowledge to name the flowers around me, but I am in awe of the variety and how magnificent they all are-whites and pinks, reds and yellows...in the distance, I can see a hint of purple, to my left, fuchsia. And the greens! So many shades and hues, I can hardly take them all in.
I walk a little further in, and kneel to smell the flowers. Some smell a little bitter, but most have the sweetest aromas. I close my eyes again to regain focus. There is a songbird hidden somewhere nearby, I hear its song, light and sweet. I feel the breeze, and hear the leaves rustling.
I look for some honeysuckle, hoping to taste its sweetness. I can't find any. It's time to leave, and I am slightly saddened, but my heart is full.
We (4/30/2019)
Choices (4/23/2019)
Hope (7/16/2020)
Growth (7/16/2020)
See (6/25/2020)
Tree (6/25/2020)
Not Done (6/18/2020)
Fallen Leaf (6/18/2020)
Lying on my back
On the cold, wet ground
Detached from my lifeline
Will things ever be the same?
Seashell in the Sand (6/18/2020)
I turn away
I prefer the shadows
To hide.
See Me (undated, 2012)
Do you hear
Can I be real
Or do I disappear
Am I anywhere
Or nowhere
Someone
Or no one
Words
flying through my head
too fast
for paper
Can you see me
Can you
Can you
Can you
Am I here
Am I real
Who am I anyway
Who am I
Trapped (Undated, 2012)
Pains (1/3/2012)
pains come and go and come again
repeating in my abdomen
the docs don't know where it is from
each sends me to another one
all they can say to make it well
is pop another pain relieving pill
motrin, tylenol, and codeine, each gets a turn
to try and relieve my stomach churn
clenching, squeezing, pains so sharp
in my midsection body parts
sometimes I think it all must be
just in my head, not reality
but how can I know which one is the truth
when even doctors have no proof?
(2022 note: I was later diagnosed with IBS)
HL (2/17/2020)
Being (2/17/2020)
Living
Horse (5/28/2019)
I lean on her
She leans on me
We talk, whisper, discuss.
She nods, listening
I nod, listening back.
I am her horse,
She is mine-
Both human,
Both horse--
My friend.
Friday, January 28, 2022
DID 11/22/2012
DID
What's wrong with
Me
Lots and lots
Of
Parts and stuff
Singing
Inside my head
I
Can't ever hear what's
Said
Anger, sadness, hurt and
Pain
Split in parts inside my
Brain
Life's more fun but
Also
A doozie-when T takes over, I feel
Snoozie
Little Ones, Big Ones, In
Betweens
To me this is what
DID
means.
Healing Journey 4/24/2012
The deep tunned is seeped in darkness. Only as wide as my shoulders, tall as my back as I crawl on my hands and knees. Each slow, painful movement brings another stone crashing down behind me, leaving no option of turning back. Wherever this tunnel leads, the only way out is through it. The end is so far, not even a glimmer of light passes through as I navigate this difficult turn. I try to reach up, to dig through the top, but the solid stone doesn't give, and I cannot see. And so I continue to drag, palms bloody, knees bruised, and back scraped, completely at the mercy of He who carefully and steadily fills the space behind my aching body with stone, as tightly fit as a perfect tetris line, without the benefit of disappearing. The slight movement of air tells me there must be an opening somewhere, yet with every push forward, it seems further away. I'm not sure I will make it to the end...yet the crashing stones push me ever forward.