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#cbt
I signed the paper with a government issued pen, Twenty maybe twenty-one—close enough to pretend I understood the weight of a name in ink, the fine print no one teaches you to read or think. They said college paid, said you’ll be set, said discipline, pride—no regrets. They showed me uniforms, starched and clean, not the dirt that settles in places unseen. I thought it’d be drills, travel, fun stories to tell, marching in rhythm, no problems, sleeping well. I didn’t picture the heat in my chest, or the sound a body makes when it loses its breath. Guatemala—thick air, heavy and loud, jungle pressing in like a judging crowd. Orders came fast, no time to debate, just a second’s decision that rewrote my fate. There’s a moment that lives behind my eyes, no matter how many times I try to disguise the way it felt—too quick, too real, how permanent a single pull of my M60 could feel. They said I did what I had to do, said good job, soldier, said we’re proud of you. Pinned fancy ribbon to BDUs, shook my hand, called it courage I didn’t understand. A Bronze Star glinted in a quiet drawer, but it didn’t soften the growing wore. It didn’t answer the silent stare of someone who isn’t alive anymore, but still there. They told me, move on, like it’s a place you leave, like grief’s a coat you can just unweave. Like memory fades if you let it sit— but memory doesn’t work like that. Not even a little bit. It lingers in corners, it sharpens with time, repeats itself like a broken rhyme. Gets louder in quiet, heavier still, a shadow that follows despite your will. I went in thinking life would begin, came out carrying something under my skin. Not visible scars, no blood to show, just a weight that refused to let me go. And they’ll keep the records, the medals, the praise— neatly filed in patriotic ways. But the truth doesn’t fit in a ceremony speech: some things you do never loosen their reach. No one ever asked me if something was wrong or if I was OK…not even a single "mental health advocate". © 2026 Shawn Oen. All rights reserved.
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Mar 26
Mar 26, 2026 at 8:37 AM UTC
Blood y Bronze Trash
I signed the paper with a government issued pen, Twenty maybe twenty-one—close enough to pretend I understood the weight of a name in ink, the fine print no one teaches you to read or think. They said college paid, said you’ll be set, said discipline, pride—no regrets. They showed me uniforms, starched and clean, not the dirt that settles in places unseen. I thought it’d be drills, travel, fun stories to tell, marching in rhythm, no problems, sleeping well. I didn’t picture the heat in my chest, or the sound a body makes when it loses its breath. Guatemala—thick air, heavy and loud, jungle pressing in like a judging crowd. Orders came fast, no time to debate, just a second’s decision that rewrote my fate. There’s a moment that lives behind my eyes, no matter how many times I try to disguise the way it felt—too quick, too real, how permanent a single pull of my M60 could feel. They said I did what I had to do, said good job, soldier, said we’re proud of you. Pinned fancy ribbon to BDUs, shook my hand, called it courage I didn’t understand. A Bronze Star glinted in a quiet drawer, but it didn’t soften the growing wore. It didn’t answer the silent stare of someone who isn’t alive anymore, but still there. They told me, move on, like it’s a place you leave, like grief’s a coat you can just unweave. Like memory fades if you let it sit— but memory doesn’t work like that. Not even a little bit. It lingers in corners, it sharpens with time, repeats itself like a broken rhyme. Gets louder in quiet, heavier still, a shadow that follows despite your will. I went in thinking life would begin, came out carrying something under my skin. Not visible scars, no blood to show, just a weight that refused to let me go. And they’ll keep the records, the medals, the praise— neatly filed in patriotic ways. But the truth doesn’t fit in a ceremony speech: some things you do never loosen their reach. No one ever asked me if something was wrong or if I was OK…not even a single "mental health advocate". © 2026 Shawn Oen. All rights reserved.
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46
Inside my fragile mind, thoughts swirl like a whirlwind, tumbling and crashing as flashbacks build stress and fear, and I am not strong enough, as I plead for the old me again. Yet I pause, searching for the silence, as I challenge my senses. I let it all settle, like dust finding rest on an old sunlit cobwebbed windowsill. It takes patience like pulling tangled linen from messy cupboards, slowly unravelling and refolding all of the trauma and pain, arranging them carefully back onto their shelves again. Processing  one thought at a time. What if this trauma reveals no flaws, but stories with each courageous step forward on this discovery journey, each moment a lesson, blunting the sharp edges of my harsh self-judgment. A kind hand reaches out talking and listening as the healing cognitive shifts begin, and the storm clouds slowly part, revealing warm sunlight, teaching me at last that it is okay to feel. Step by step, we build upon the foundations of the past and future, finding anchors, to ground my scattered thoughts, as I learn to breathe easy again. From my traumatic moments, hope emerges from an open book as my life turns a page, revealing a fresh chapter and a newfound strength as my vulnerability now stands free and fiercely proud. We gather up the scattered pieces, and walls crumble down, as an understanding dawns. Life's chaos grows quieter when faced with the truth, and in each moment I found resilience to this part of my challenged life. Together, We rode through the storm to find the calm within its eye, where clarity begins, the heart and mind unite and I finally realise that we are all worthy of finding peace. ©️Lizzie Bevis
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May 19, 2025
May 19, 2025 at 2:36 AM UTC
Cognitive Behavioural Therapy
Inside my fragile mind, thoughts swirl like a whirlwind, tumbling and crashing as flashbacks build stress and fear, and I am not strong enough, as I plead for the old me again. Yet I pause, searching for the silence, as I challenge my senses. I let it all settle, like dust finding rest on an old sunlit cobwebbed windowsill. It takes patience like pulling tangled linen from messy cupboards, slowly unravelling and refolding all of the trauma and pain, arranging them carefully back onto their shelves again. Processing  one thought at a time. What if this trauma reveals no flaws, but stories with each courageous step forward on this discovery journey, each moment a lesson, blunting the sharp edges of my harsh self-judgment. A kind hand reaches out talking and listening as the healing cognitive shifts begin, and the storm clouds slowly part, revealing warm sunlight, teaching me at last that it is okay to feel. Step by step, we build upon the foundations of the past and future, finding anchors, to ground my scattered thoughts, as I learn to breathe easy again. From my traumatic moments, hope emerges from an open book as my life turns a page, revealing a fresh chapter and a newfound strength as my vulnerability now stands free and fiercely proud. We gather up the scattered pieces, and walls crumble down, as an understanding dawns. Life's chaos grows quieter when faced with the truth, and in each moment I found resilience to this part of my challenged life. Together, We rode through the storm to find the calm within its eye, where clarity begins, the heart and mind unite and I finally realise that we are all worthy of finding peace. ©️Lizzie Bevis
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70
it seems to me that breathing deeply and counting to ten just gives them another opportunity to irritate me even more
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Feb 12, 2024
Feb 12, 2024 at 6:57 AM UTC
count to ten
right under her nose but she didn't know it didn't want to impose kept to the pattern and flow no longer spiralling but stuck like gum on your shoe like some bad luck if you squint your eyes and hold your breath you will detect an end but nothing like a death memories are merely in our mind sometimes you get triggered and you are now blind feeling disfigured unlearning old habits is a fight such a familiar face the old you, a comfortable place a room with no daylight but the wheels keep turning and the world keeps spinning she is still learning somehow it's just the beginning
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Oct 1, 2020
Oct 1, 2020 at 10:07 AM UTC
just the beginning
Is it that I crave an understanding of self amidst a turmoil of state or is it that I'm a coward always running from crying out for justifying what I always knew to be true.
0
Jun 2, 2020
Jun 2, 2020 at 2:12 PM UTC
I can't breathe under the weight of our core sins.
A place in which to ponder not a milky way universal complexity repulsions war attractions feelings and asensuality the creation of ones oan cosmic chatter slowing the flows dragging the darkness down energy implosion darkness a place of harmonius existence safety isolation deafing in reality speaking in circles hearing it all unable to translate from the light want to stay longer energy sapping overheating drawing on previous knowledge driving experiences forward deciding the options balancing the ideas and harvest break free into the light an eerie world where life exists weigh the risks to venture forth open the aqueducts fountains draw us out relief in existence appreciate the worries deal in the contradictions manage the cliff edge make a pact with your soul socialising tendrils start to walk deep sleep enter thy vessel a place to dream good and bad protective and restoring open-hearted dutifully imploring with authentic rhythm assemble gods of energy write out, light up the abyss speak out,  quench the abyssum baby steps and leave that abyss alone
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May 20, 2020
May 20, 2020 at 4:35 PM UTC
The abyss : an exploration
The mind can be a poisonous vine, That twists and creeps, corrupts and thrives Until You Recognise The twisting vine, is kept alive - Only If it’s scrutinised.
0
Nov 27, 2018
Nov 27, 2018 at 4:18 PM UTC
Poisonous vine
So, here I am... Seeing, thinking and doing what I can To live this thing called ‘existence’ again... Wait up! Before I continue.... This is going to be a long one and may be new to some of you... So before I continue, I’ve got nothing to lose, by sharing my beliefs with you.... For this is something I MUST do, I’m no guru, And I’m certainly no preacher, but perhaps a healer, so maybe listen to these words, Of which I’m pretty sure you’ve heard already, I assure you this won’t be deadly! And it’s even politically correct You see, this body that you see me in, with a name, an ego, and well, anything else I have been assigned with, Day in, Day out is just an image, a bridge between the spirit world and the living world, In the name of Nature, in the name of Karma, and in the name of what we all know as... the universe. Don’t you just love how diverse and connected everything and everyone is? I wish it wasn’t relevant but it’s a shame that some people around us just can’t accept this. All I can do is tell you that you can’t change others, only how YOU adapt to them in a positive way because we must all preserve our reputation, another important perception and seal THAT with a kiss so whaddya say? Our own mental health should come first right? well, THIS is how I cope because at the end of the day, It’s only myself who can be my own true guiding light. it’s gotten me through my worst and weakest days, and let me strongly express this that these feelings we go through is just a phase. So just incase YOU are feeling under the weather today, don’t forget that even though you are just an image that not only YOU have helped to create, Not everyone sees, thinks and feels the same way, It’s okay to bear in mind that time is what you make it, so don’t let a beautiful illusion like YOU go to waste
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Jun 25, 2018
Jun 25, 2018 at 6:17 PM UTC
The Meaning Of ‘Life’
So, here I am... Seeing, thinking and doing what I can To live this thing called ‘existence’ again... Wait up! Before I continue.... This is going to be a long one and may be new to some of you... So before I continue, I’ve got nothing to lose, by sharing my beliefs with you.... For this is something I MUST do, I’m no guru, And I’m certainly no preacher, but perhaps a healer, so maybe listen to these words, Of which I’m pretty sure you’ve heard already, I assure you this won’t be deadly! And it’s even politically correct You see, this body that you see me in, with a name, an ego, and well, anything else I have been assigned with, Day in, Day out is just an image, a bridge between the spirit world and the living world, In the name of Nature, in the name of Karma, and in the name of what we all know as... the universe. Don’t you just love how diverse and connected everything and everyone is? I wish it wasn’t relevant but it’s a shame that some people around us just can’t accept this. All I can do is tell you that you can’t change others, only how YOU adapt to them in a positive way because we must all preserve our reputation, another important perception and seal THAT with a kiss so whaddya say? Our own mental health should come first right? well, THIS is how I cope because at the end of the day, It’s only myself who can be my own true guiding light. it’s gotten me through my worst and weakest days, and let me strongly express this that these feelings we go through is just a phase. So just incase YOU are feeling under the weather today, don’t forget that even though you are just an image that not only YOU have helped to create, Not everyone sees, thinks and feels the same way, It’s okay to bear in mind that time is what you make it, so don’t let a beautiful illusion like YOU go to waste
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49
I made a vision board in CBT therapy four years ago I pasted a Keaton Henson quote “I think a lot of art is trying to make someone love you” on my board I just thought it was a nice quote My therapist then proceeded to tell me not to create for anyone else but myself. I proceeded to not listen. I’m still writing poems about you I’m still drawing your hands I’m still in love and we haven’t talked in years.
0
Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 2:35 AM UTC
and still , i create
Reality is psychosomatic We perpetuate thought-form On a treadmill of synchronistic Patterns Passing self-doubt In a transcendence contest Fear vs. desire, The pillars of motivation, Exploited With the best intention Thought to Feeling to Action A dream-scape manifested
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Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 11:34 PM UTC
Transcendence Contest
Write me a meal plan in bright red pain And tell me this is the answer to all my problems again Force down a tube through my nose and into my stomach And watch as I flummox out of control Fill this gaping hole inside of me With drugs and sedation Numb out pain and realisation Force feed me promises and a smile Only to regress back in a while. Fill these cracks With temporary fixtures Concoctions of pills and other mixtures. Treat me with CBT and psychotherapy Tell me one day ill be free And maybe if you say it enough times Ill start to believe it As much as you say you do.
0
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 9:30 AM UTC
Untitled
'Nothing bad is going to happen' is the alternative thought that I wish would stop me bleeding.
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Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 1:40 PM UTC
Anxiety- cbt therapy (17 w)