me ignoras, me rechazas, me conviertes en nada- y trato de acercarme para revivir lo que tenΓamos pero tu me haces sentir como una idiota, una estupida me dices que no pasa nada y que estoy loca Y yo me siento atrapada porque no quiero quedarme sola
my final step in returning to myself was returning to my homeland once I finally found my stable sense of identity I had desperately searched for since I could remember- I felt like Alice in Wonderland my eyes wide open, my mouth opened in awe- taking in the glorious sights and sounds of my birthplace the 32 years away from it didnβt matter the ocean, the mountains, the city welcomed me back Reminding me it had always been there for me to come back to and the powerful and profound emotions I felt in standing on the ground that saw my birth and early childhood made me understand there really is no place like home
anhelo los dΓas de mi juventud cuando no tenΓa preocupaciones y responsabilidades cuando tenΓa la libertad de hacer lo que querΓa con mi dia cuando no conocΓa la oscuridad y el vacΓo que me consume y me llena de frustracion y desesperacion
I used to be an expert at throwing my own pity parties I drew a chalk line of the outline of my body and called myself the victim of my life It was before self-awareness kicked in, it was before radical honesty it was comforting to drown in my misery but now, if I feel myself treading in a sea of self-pity I look back on all of the progress Iβve made and all of the healing Iβve done and am reassured Iβm not a victim anymore I never really was I was always a diamond buried under a mountain of mental illness-and now I shine with the queen energy that took me a long time to uncover
my soul commands me to slow down and listen in silence to what I need It tells me to not suppress anything-even it looks angry another mean and petty poem appears itβs okay, itβs shadow self needing to be seen itβs a part of my identity that doesnβt define me my soul tells me Iβm not worst or best moments Iβm more complicated than that Iβm a woman full of trauma search for the calm in the chaos that is her life
staying sober from a lover is not easy for a love addict like me itβs crying in bed wishing I was dead itβs loneliness, making me crumble in a ball on the floor making me feel unloved and even though I have the cure with a text to someone whoβd put me out of my misery Iβd rather suffer for a while even if it is a hell of a withdrawal because if Iβm ever going to have a healthy relationship I need to be comfortable first with solitude and the much needed introspection and healing it brings
the chaos within wonβt let me sleep, wonβt let me be- I worry and worry and worry about my kids, my bills, my productivity and I fall into the purgatory of what could have beens and of my many lost dreams and disappointment and depression covers me There was so much I wanted to be I am the opposite of the American Dream a woman dependent on her husband a woman stuck in the depths of her insecurities and anxiety who longs to escape from this self imposed stagnant mediocre reality
let me sabotage this new relationship by comparing him to my ex- the one I still write poems about, the one who still visits me in my dreams the one who wouldnβt leave his wife or other lovers for me- my new boyfriend treats me with respect and is such a calm guy my friends tell me this is healthy but I find it boring I miss being last on someoneβs list I miss being treated as an afterthought I miss the inner chaos and conflict that came from the uncertainty of not knowing if my lover was sure of me-
cupid gets it wrong once again- bringing out a drawn out rejection for a month- This time he tells me, βYouβre cool enough to make out with but not good enough for my momβ I almost throw my phone across the room instead I say βitβs cool.itβs okayβ and take a pen to my rage on paper
You will always be a secret that I’ll regret one that makes me full of shame and guilt one Iβve tried to block again and again unsuccessfully Itβs something I will never talk about it would cause my inner world much harm so Iβll keep quiet about it Swallow it whole Itβs a story of trauma that doesnβt need to be told
saint tracey assured me my life wasnβt over she showed me love and compassion when everyone else shunned me she accepted me for who I was and encouraged me to follow the path of success she saw the hidden potential in me when other teachers saw laziness she was a prayer from God sent to me to remind me my mistakes donβt define me and that I was still worthy of the love and goodness in the world