When I was younger I experienced emetophobia, an intense fear of ***** I would sit and wonder to myself, “What if I threw up right now?” and sent myself into a spinning cycle of worry, making me feel perpetually nauseous and no doubt making the situation worse overall. During one of my routine check ups at my pediatrician, I worked up the courage to ask my doctor about it. I told her I felt nauseous almost constantly and I’m terrified of throwing up. She told me that fear can be a powerful thing. I was probably just experiencing anxiety that I caused myself. A self-fulfilling prophecy almost.
Both of my wonderful parents have Multiple Sclerosis. I can’t help but wonder if somehow it’s part of a bigger plan. The truth of the matter is, I have nightmares about it. Will I get sick? How will I work a normal job? Will I still be able to pay my bills? Will I be cursed with this setback before my life has really even begun?
I’ve been sick the past couple days. Nausea, physical weakness, tingles in my legs and hands, shaking fingers and a crazy case of the spins. My logical side tells me it’s probably nothing. A vitamin imbalance or my dosage of Lithium is too high. This has only happened once before and it went away in a few days. Regardless of how many times I try to reassure myself, I keep jumping back to the same basic anxiety that fueled my fear of vomiting. The brain’s ability to persuade is a powerful thing. Is it possible my anxiety is just manifesting itself? Is that even possible? I’ve heard of cases where the body mimics symptoms of pregnancy, down to the swollen belly and milk production. If the body is capable of tricking someone into thinking they’re creating life, what makes me think this misery I’m going through now isn’t just some cruel trick my brain is playing on me? Is it really worth spending a thousand bucks I don’t have just to find out I’m just an anxious person? I already knew that.
I’m finding myself at a crossroads here. My new life in Wichita Falls isn’t all I thought it would be. I’ve made no friends, I’m not doing well at work. The only thing I have going for me is my GPA, and I’m scared that if this anxiety keeps up, I won’t even have that. Here I am, rambling to a Google document that can’t do anything to fix me. Am I losing it? Am I just too deep into my own head? I have a tendency to sabotage myself out of success due to fear of failure. Maybe that’s what’s going on.
If there really is something going on with my health, I’m not sure how I’ll tackle that mentally. It’s like my worst fears are coming to life in front of me. I’m far away from the people that care about me and it seems as though I’m headed toward the worst possible scenario I had cooked up in my head before moving here. I’m not sure if people really do dislike me or if I’m just so socially anxious that I’ve convinced myself to expect the worst. There are some days I think about giving up and moving back home, but I don’t want to be seen as the girl who chickened out of independence because she wasn’t cut out for the success she sought after. I’m scared of failing, but even more so of disappointing those around me. Perhaps I’m scared of not being as good as everyone thinks I am. I don’t know.
If anyone has any advice, that would be highly appreciated.
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 3:26 PM UTC
When the battle beneath us beckons me home, and my brittle bones break,
Be sure to bury me in a black blouse with blue begonias and blame those ******* bluejays for the blatantly bad things. But always be brave and believe in the betterment of beauty for there will always be blasphemy and bitterness in the blank book. But be sure to balance brains and beauty for all the earth to bleed.
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 2:42 PM UTC
We may have had no money
But we were fit for kings.
We used to steal from thrift stores
And sell eclectic thngs.
Sure we fought over dinner
And you occasionally roared my name.
But how was I supposed to know
It would never be the same.
You ransacked my apartment
And didn't leave a dime,
And so I called the cops
I was running out of time.
But the cops found our salvia
Hidden underneath the stairs.
I should've told them it was yours
But by then I didn't care.
I punched one in the gut
And ran as fast as I could.
I may have been a bit too rough
But I was always misunderstood.
I found an eerie park
And hid behind the gate.
I lit my last cigarette
And filled my thoughts with hate.
I thought of the time you pushed me
In a puddle of sticky mud.
Or the time you wouldn't answer my calls
And my eyes began to flood.
The time you refused to meet my sister
Because she was fat and gay
And the time you left me at a funeral
Even though I pleaded you to stay.
I'd come to terms that you were no good
So I brushed off my hands,
Stretched, and stood.
I ran through the traffic
Finally a free soul.
I discovered it wasn't my life that you stole.
But rather my boundaries is what you unchained.
My walls were bashed inward
And now they're out again.
The world is ending
Before my eyes.
And there is no one else that I want to despise.
But I can't hate you now
You set me free.
The sun is dripping and
The ground moves shakily.
Buildings crumble and children scream
Mothers think it's just a dream.
But the earth splits in half
And I hope you're okay.
As we slip into darkness
On this eventful day.
I wake up in hell
Missing you dearly I cried.
Only to find that you're
Right by my side.
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 6:24 PM UTC
last night i woke up from a nightmare.
my boyfriend of 2 years knocked on my door,
held a colt 45 to my chest,
smiled,
told me "i love you baby"
and pulled the trigger.
i didn't die,
no, that would be too easy.
i stood there, bleeding and hopeless
and watched him pull the trigger
with the gun to his temple.
the twisted thing is,
watching hurt more.
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 3:38 PM UTC
not every poem is about beauty
too caught we are in the moment to write about it
that is what makes it beautiful
pain clings long beyond instants
prolongs and window reflections
engulfing our bones
masticating our stomachs
from slow drip bile coffeemakers in our chest
the line from that one song starts the burning
and the eyes of a stranger flavored with reminders
i wish i could tell him i finally got to ____________
my blood is chunked with tomato slices
acidic clots and stagnant passions
float me in melancholy perplexities
a minute of oddity where emotions
are unidentifiable
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 5:14 PM UTC
i cannot stop listening
to songs that make me think of you.
your stupid hair/smile/way of saying things.
stupid//stupid//stupid//stupid
i have written the word
stupid
so many times
i'm beginning to question
if it's even a real word.
does this mean
if i continue to allow you
to plague my thoughts with
your lovely hair/smile/way of saying things,
you will cease
to exist?
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 4:46 PM UTC