I forgot what dealing with anxiety was like, up until recently.
Awakening anxiety is like drowning in a hail of emotions you do not understand. Well, I think there is some form of understanding but you are definitely just minutely grasping it by the tips of your fingers. It is also profoundly deafening, even at its most docile moments. It wakes you from a deep sleep and from that sleep, you still lay so uncomfortably even when your bed is as warm as a mid-day sun ray touches your skin.
The reason being for my anxiety is because I have been dealing with a form of emptiness. This emptiness feels similar to neglect and/or replacement. It itches underneath my skin and eats me up on the inside. It is related to insecurity or lack of security and assurance. Deep in my mind, I am uncomfortable and writhing from the discomfort.
What do I feel?
Someone else is creating memories for me and in place of me. Someone else is taking care of my responsibilities. Someone else sharing the space that is mine.
Am I being selfish at this point? Can I help it even if I could?
I feel as if my personal space has been invaded a little. Reality or not, now, I am not just the only girl. It feels less intimate to me that I can find something so special elsewhere.
Truth is, this is all very subliminal if you have not caught on already.
I am not writing to be petty. I am not writing for attention. I am writing so that instead of allowing my eyes to tear and flow heavy with hurt, at least I can put my feelings to words and make them feel lyrical and distant.
For eyes to see and minds to understand, this is how a human being feels about anxiety and insecurities. That is all. But, overcoming this is not a difficult obstacle, and I understand that. The only way to deal with pain is to get through it.
It is so hard to deal with voids, even if temporary.
Maybe he’ll say ‘hello’ or ‘hi’.
Maybe he’ll hurt with every goodbye.
Maybe he’ll call me.
And maybe he won’t…
But cosmically, none of this matters
If he does or he don’t.
Picking up poetry from Tumblr. Reposting here so that I can transfer it over and have one less forum to worry about since I just added Twitter to the plate, again. Kind of excited to be instantaneously posting poetry on-the-go, though! Looking forward to sharing my deepest thoughts with you in real time, soon.
So about this poem, not sure when I wrote it but can you tell, there’s a little heartache there? I guess I have gone through my fair share and enough of the experience to have writing about it, lol. Here’s a bit of a piece where there are dueling emotions regarding getting attention from someone. At the end of this poem, the subject just decides it doesn’t matter. Or maybe that it shouldn’t? Wondering so deep about the feelings of someone else; well, when in doubt, get out. That’s the best bet in saving one from a grueling heartache of uncertainties, etc. I like that I wrote this poem to rhyme the way it does. Pat on the back for me. Hope you all like this one. It’s just short and sweet.
More reposts from Tumblr, coming soon!
Listening to a minder wander silently
Through a deep serenade of anxiety
Spiraling madly into a chaos so dark
Feeling so lost and left in satiety
Creating hope like speckled spots
A light in the dim and dark lots
Deeply tracing pessimism
Filling void after void with good thoughts
Coming out of a battle within
Balanced like a yang to a yin
Engulfed by good and soaring high
And this is where happiness begins
I think it’s fair to say that I have had my fair share of grief in the last few days trying to cope with the utter shock of Donald Trump becoming our president-elect. In the last few days, I denied it, I was angry, I bargained, I was depressed; Kubler-Ross’ stages of grief did not entirely prepare me for this. As I come to the edge of my depression and sadness, I still cannot seem to fathom accepting that it will be okay to watch children grow in a country that is so divided, full of ignorance and hate.
I want to learn to accept, but I know it will take time.
As everyone is entitled to their opinion, these are very much my own and I hope that you may respect that…
You’re on the verge of mesmerizing phantoms
The dead eyes realize the power of their gaze
And their heavy tongues wasted in dry moans
And in sequence, the wasting sighs play like a phase
A tantalizing dreamer can only hope
For a chariot will take away all her lost faith
To the spiteful darkness she will hide
But in that darkness she will find peace to cope
I stand still in time, a constellation, composed by all things that matter to me – my heart, body, mind and soul. And, all these things are a matter beyond what eyes can see.
I am more than what meets curious eyes.
Can you see?
Do you see me?
A constellation suspended in time.
Beyond this city of wild emotions
Running rampant on the concrete
Dancing passionately across the city…
Eyes of curiosity
And we are lost