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MalakF  Jul 19
{Nine}
MalakF Jul 19
Sadness isn’t a sickness but I think I’m coming down.
Doctor, doctor I no longer want to be around. All that I seem to do is constantly breakdown.
Doctor, doctor I think it’s time for me to go. Cancel my next appointment, I won’t be here tomorrow.
Doctor, doctor you say that sadness is in fact a sickness, yet you aren’t advising me on how to fix this.
Lynn  May 10
big chair
Lynn May 10
I'm sitting in the big chair
Taking my fingers and tracing them over the patterns
I'm making shapes and scratching into the fabric
A thread or two tug and make a noise as they cling to the tips of my nails

I'm looking at the wallpaper
Slowly moving my eyes and counting every stripe on the wall
White, blue, red, blue, white
I count 136 before i lose my place and have to start all over again
i notice a flaw in the pattern and move on


I'm closing my eyes and resting
Trying my hardest to ignore your gaze and your difficult questions
I don't speak
I don't listen
I don't feel
I just sit and rest
136 stripes, 208 triangles, 2 flaws- one in the wallpaper, the other is me

That's why i'm sitting in the big chair today
With the lady i don't care for
Listening to questions i don't know the answers to
Ignoring her cry for some sort of reply
therapy adventures
Blake 13h
Here’s a little story
About a daughter
And her family

See the daughter has depression and anxiety
But the mother is oblivious
The mother is unaware of the depression
She genuinely believes that cutting and the fact that her daughter goes to therapy are linked to anxiety

And yet
Even though the mother seems to think that it’s only anxiety
Meaning that the anxiety is that extreme
She still wakes the daughter up
By screaming
She still questions the daughter
In front of a crowd
She still yells at the daughter, overwhelms her
And sends her into a panic attack

And yet all the people on the outside see is a mother worried about her daughter
And trying to help her
By taking her to therapy
But they don’t see the locked doors
They don’t see the screaming
The name calling
The belittling
They don’t see
That the mother
Is the reason that the daughter
Has to fight
So damn hard
To want to live

They don’t see that the daughter is only happy with her friends
They don’t see the scars on her arms, legs, and hips
They don’t see that the daughters only escape is when she’s not at home
They don’t see that the very therapist the mother takes her to
Is proud of the daughter
For staying alive
In such
Rough
Circumstances
Blood doesn’t mean family

But enough about the mother lets move on to the father.
The father that refused to pay child support for the first 3 years after the divorce
The father that had a second child, the daughter’s half brother, with another woman
The father that is engaged to a different woman now
The father that, when evacuated from his city due to a fire, took his fiancé to Jamaica instead of seeing his kids
The father that forgot his daughters birthday
The father that is “old school”
Which just means
Sexist
And homophobic
Blood doesn’t mean family

Next is the sister
The sister that supports me
The sister that laughs with me
The sister that understands how I feel
The sister that helps me when I need it
The sister that believes in me
That loves me
The sister creates fun and amazing stories and experiences with me
Just because she’s in the mood to have fun
The sister that raised me to be a good person
That taught me
And teaches me
How to get through life
Blood doesn’t mean family

Finally
The friends
The friend that gave me a reason to live
The friend that gave me a reason to laugh
The friend that showed me that it can get better and that they love and care for me and they don’t just “hope I get through this” but that they are going to be there and make sure that I get through this
The friend that marched with me with a rainbow
The friend that treated my relationships the same as straight ones
The friend that told me she’s open to the experience if I want to kiss her
The friends that I can flirt with and we laugh about it
The friends that I can flirt with and it becomes a little more than just friends
The friends who maybe I’m not as close with but who still show interest in my life and what I’m interested in and let me talk about activism because it makes me happy to empower people
The friend that made me believe in beautiful
The friend that stayed up with me when I had a nightmare about my molesting and help my hand until I fell back asleep
The friend that stated up all night on FaceTime singing songs together from our favourite band
The friend that boosts my ego when we go to the gym
The friend that cried when she found out I self harmed
The friends that worry about me and want me to get better
The friends that live far away
The friends that live close by
The friends that have shown me more love and happiness in the past year than I’ve known my whole life
The friend that was there even when I felt numb to the world and they just let me be but they made sure I know they’re here
The friends that ask questions when they don’t understand
The friends that are interested in what I do
The friends that offer me a place to stay should I need it
The friends who make sure I eat
The friends who worry when I don’t eat
The friends who sit at the back of the bus
The friends who get drunk
The friends who throw skittles at people
The friends who are in my class
The friends who are older than me
The friends who are younger than me
The friends who help me with homework
The friends who show me there are good people in the world
The friends
Who stick by me
And show me
That
Blood doesn’t mean family

We don’t choose the situation we are born into
But we do get to choose
Who our family is
So thank you
To my real family
For not only keeping me alive
But making me happy to be.
The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb
Take one step forward
just one step
one step is progress
she tells me
but how do you take a step forward
when you don't know
which direction you are facing
It takes some time
to gain control
To rid myself from the concrete
But I take my first step
and the cement begins to break
it's left scars on my feet
they feel painful
but free
I'm wounded
but still standing
and which direction I'm headed
I don't yet know
but standing
is enough for now
julianna Aug 8
Another dream as part of the treatment
In all reality, it feels like a torture
If they only knew what the beeps brought on...
The left-right, dream-inducing,
cadence,
Tells my brain what to process;
And it’s always you.
If it hurts that much, is it healing?
Or bleeding out and re-peeling?
It’s the second dream since the therapy
On the second day since the therapy.
And oh,
It felt better the first time.
The one where he thought I was weird,
Because it’s more realistic.
But in the one about you,
I got everything I’d ever wanted
Which hurts
And aches
And hollows one out.
It leaves nerves fried
And teary eyes
And palpating hearts.
Because there’s no room to grow,
No room left to dream.
It’s given me an eye to see what we could have been
And feel how good it would’ve been.
And now I know and long for those  feelings.
And I think I always will,
Because I’ll never forget what I’ve dreamed.
I’m a broken, hollow body. These dream are tiring, winding torture. I don’t think I will ever get over him, it’s a deeper ache than you can expect someone to have for someone so non-essential in their life. But here we are.

The title is EMDR in Braille, or atleast it’s supposed to be.
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