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David Apr 2018
Where does creativity come from?

Wherever I am allowed to flourish.

Seems as dependent on everything beyond my
own body -

With all my work, fears, and beliefs.

So whatever I am, allowing myself to flourish.

Mixing with everything else that is.
i know people who are obsessed with ***
obsessed with adrenaline and
where their next high is coming from
i used to be obsessed, OCD to the point of
screams, tears, erratic behaviors, all the insanities
my sister stopped it and now i'm not obsessed
not obsessed with anything.

i've done a lot of hard drugs
never once got addicted
smoked cigarettes, clove menthol cigarettes
yes i'm a gross girl baby
i smoked socially baby
and quit smoking independently baby

i used to **** a lot of men
hate **** around because of an ex
slept with 2 or 3 fraternity brothers
i forget because it wasn't important
said i love you because it was important
said goodbye because that was more important

now i'm just really happy not doing any of that
really happy working hard and being the best me
drinking the best tea, traveling to friends, and
spending money on me and watching
my bank account fill up because of me

i've become so tired because of you and you and
you. don't want to spend my pennies, my time on
those that don't see me for me and buying pointless garbage items that aren't used or beautiful.

i know thyself thou tho is ever changing
now that's a sentence Shakespeare can get down with and woof that's pretentious if you judge people un-openly and meow that's judgment because **** just be open and love yourself more than me.
Remembering oats at bedtime,
a little light pops on.
The mind races,
frantic about the decision.
Act.
10 minutes, Hell in 2
a downward spiral
assaults my mood.
Should have remembered
should have done this sooner for rest.
Distracted. Lazy
Insufficient.
STOP!
Hands  working swiftly,
be mindful.
The rabbit runs a maze,
give it way to light.
Get lost in the goodness that you do.
for you.
Let your fingers move with love.
The sustenance you create.
Store it away.
As I lay my head to rest
it sets,
a smile fires through my brain.
Chemicals brew a joy that fills my limbs
fulfillment in my day.
This is manic high.
The intoxication of my last act,
the will to steal a moment
and prepare the coming dawn.
Pride.
Should those demons start to speak
raining blood and black on my resolve,
I remembered oats
and shan't be weak.
I recently began therapy to attempt to make sense of the emotional chaos that had been my life up to this point. In addition to anxiety, hypoglycemia can rule my moods so learning to build structure for myself goes a very long way in preventing & managing both sugar & mood drops.
After lazily binging Spawn for most of the night once my boyfriend came home, I realized I hadn't done the prep work to get my work week started right & was starting to beat myself up & get stressed because I needed to get to bed but what the **** do I do? So I took the 15 minutes & did it. I shut up the negative self talk by falling in love with the vibrant colors of the fruit & thinking gratitude for having taken the time for myself, that ultimately would make the next day easier. If I dropped, if I didn't get a lunch break to come home, whatever came up, my breakfast & lunch were taken care of & this would strengthen & armor me for the coming day. I went to bed so proud & elated that for a moment I was at a high, simply buzzing with the having the fortitude to push through that anxiety in my head. My boyfriend, that most helpful dominant push at times, initially was the one to tell me to cook the oats. It was that permission almost, to ease my mind & support the notion. Dealing with my inside voice & energy was the challenge & it was gratifying to have overcome it. I'm learning & trying & working hard to be my best. The words were coming to me & felt fun & free & its relieving to share them.
Kristie Townsend Sep 2016
I feel numb, stuck, trapped
My insecurities get worse each day
I miss my extroverted self
I don't know where I've gone?

I'm existing;  not living
I'm not unhappy, I am not sad
I'm apathetic : neither here nor there

No movement,  nothing changes
Yet my life, my home, myself ...
Have changed beyond recognition

I am using this nothingness to heal
Educate, restore, fix, mend
In the stillness, I find my soul
My brain refuses to acknowledge it

Mindset is in quandary,  undecided
Body is aging before my own eyes
Soul is vulnerable , yet open
Honesty is blunt, uncomfortable for some, but necessary

Old friends question and probe
New friends acquired along the road
Baggage weighs heavy
I can not put it down

These are the ramblings of the mentally unwell
Emotionally unstable, is my label
I wear it well: you really couldn't tell
Unless you are reading this

I'll pretend and disguise the panic in my eyes
Censor my language, no triggers spoken
Not to alarm, not to self harm
Just keep quiet, be good, continue to be misunderstood
SøułSurvivør Jun 2016
I'll agree!
But I'm not camping 'neath a tree
I'm getting fit... I'm getting free
From habits that were hurting me
Now my weight loss all can see!

I'm not hiking through the woods
But i work out... it does me good!
I now cook nutritious food!
The labels are now understood!

I'm never tired. Never bored...
The future has so much in store!
I'm learning mindfulness and more
I was put here by the Lord

And now my life has been restored!


:D Catherine
It is my last week at Camp Wellness... a 9 week Fitness and Nutrition Learning Center. They have really helped me to get to know myself and some of the self-defeating habits I had gotten myself into. I have lost 10 pounds and feel wonderful!

I want to thank you all for bearing with me during this time that I haven't been able to read that much. You have been so faithful to read me and repost and comment...

I APPRECIATE YOU! ♡

Unfortunately I must go off site again now... more chores to be done... It never ends!

-
MJ May 2016
You're right.
The world's not black anymore.
But it's still looking grey.

Okay.
It isn't night anymore.
But it surely isn't day.

The world isn't upside down anymore.
But I'm still not looking straight.

The door isn't locked up tight anymore.
But it's still a locked up gate.

I might not be standing still anymore,
But I'm still not ready to run.

My finger isn't on the trigger anymore.
But I haven't put down my gun.

You may not see me cry anymore.
But you still don't see me grin.

No, I'm not shutting you out anymore.
But I'm still not letting you in.

I'm shaking hands with the darkness.
And I'm shaking hands with the light.

But I can't let go of either,
Or they'll see each other and fight.

Don't assume that
Because I don't sink anymore,
That I must be flying.

Just because I'm not dead anymore,
Doesn't mean that I'm not dying.
Francie Lynch Jan 2016
My car is in the bat cave,
The lower chamber's lit;
All the doors are locked,
The drapes don't leave a slit.
I'm in here all alone,
Haven't shaved for days;
My fingers need attention,
My bed is like my grave.
There's dishes in the kitchen sink,
The refuse starts to stink.
I'm underground.
No calls, no texts, no tweets.
I have my bread and butter,
If only I could eat.
I have a need to peek outside
Where the living own the streets.
I'm better off than dead,
I'll rise up from this sleep;
Don't call my name
To call me forth,
At present I'm too deep.
When time is ready,
And I'm steady,
I'll push aside the lid,
Walk from this crypt,
Abandon ship,
And bask in light above.
Sam Hain Oct 2015
With curvy spines grow all the trees,
    As though they passed round scoliosis
Like people pass a cold and sneeze,
    Or swine-flu, or tuberculosis.  

O.O
Tanner C Jan 2015
My Heart of Glass

It lays there's safe on a pillow of feathers

Laying there cold

Cracked and full of holes

But where is the Glassmith?

The one who can fix this fragile heart

Where is she to close the cracks

To fill in the holes

Who will mend my glass heart?

Laying cold among the feathers
Andy Hunter Jan 2015
the water in the water
tank drips

the waters isn’t water
for my lips

the water is
the drips

somewhere deep within
the level slips

over
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