Tag Archives: relationships

Something Abused Women Never Tell You

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Something Abused Women Never Tell You

I am silenced and submissive
Raging inside, where beautiful ideas go to die

I’m half of myself; fractioned
Fractures hide themselves well
Collected, I am
A cool calm collection of them
The broken bits, loose screws unwinding

He says anger looks ugly on me
I stop wearing makeup and frowning, lower my voice and say please rather than fuck you

It isn’t enough.

He wants the rush, not the victory
The squeal, not the bacon
Though he enjoys both, he is satisfied
By neither, nothing, never
He bites my head off
For the volumous chew, the ratchet twist, the wretched way my body writhes with rebellion
The texture of misery is a taste he must’ve acquired

And love, you can’t imagine
But this is also what it looks like
The kind that can’t walk away
Or be firm in the boundaries
The kind that finds its secret pleasures
In the challenge of such a twisted duel
You don’t believe it and I don’t blame you
But this is love
Too

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Stranded on the Shore

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Stranded on the Shore

Still and silent, the rage-laden whispers speak
Of possibilities in the form of forth-coming terrors
The horse’s mouth, bird beak, hushed words
Tale telling of a Go-See plot
And does it, so loudly unspoken
Against lost time, better judgement, all odds
Standing to remind of a broad daylight greed
A thief I never and always saw coming

The words that want so badly to never be said

Paint a picture, spin a web
Revealing what’s taken and can’t be returned: innocence, purpose, peace
Without words the secrets see them, rumor them around
The ugly truths, hidden horrors that bring my conscience to its knees and face to face with everything swept beneath the rug
For the sake and demise, equally, of my fragile mental well-being
What will my being become, if not well?
Will I live to hunt the answers down, the knot-tying fears for which my heart is broken and breaks?
The ceaseless prayers, the Nothing that’s changed
Am I the only one? The stand-alone widow, the petrified wood
Will the hand of God reach all the sense unmade?
Intervene, explain how I came to be in this place
Negate the reasons, the wild card
Played by the King of Spades
Savage; cripple
Keeper of my gate
I look into his eyes
And all I see
Is the exchange of his name for my entire life, my dreams of a future or anything worthwhile, my every breath and every move accounted for, my soul and my sense of belonging
In this world there are winners and losers
Sometimes it’s just luck of the draw
But this, this was something I chose
For myself, my children
I look into their eyes
And all I see
Is their entire life, their dreams of a future or anything worthwhile, their every breath and every move accounted for, their soul and sense of belonging
Teetering on the verge
Between manifest and unactual; my lifelong regret in the making
Who am I to tame the darkness, yet how am I to let it live?
Woman warrior, a mother I was always
First
I’ll be damned or dead if he gets the last word

The words that want so badly to never be said

The truth has waited long enough.

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I dedicate this to whom it belongs.

The swelter keeps a record heat this year
It’s a murderous spring
Losing itself between
Frost-bitten ices and heat-stroke orange
Blood orange
The kind sliced and placed perfectly in its pointless garnishing place

And here am I
Another token of your majesty’s invincibility
Should’ve gambled on the chance of it
Me, falling predictably apart at your treason’s start
When I die, will there be a heart
In you, will that be enough, your highness, to prove
That my faith could’ve gone on forever?
Will you sadden your face to suit the occasion?
Compassion, empathy, when in season or fashion
You, how you would just so happen
To keep coming around
Happen, always know where to be and when
Include us, if you will
Structurized memories and compromised plans
New age theories with their many hidden agendas

How do you keep up with yourself?

I once was one of the few, the only
Putting all my broken chips upon you
You, with your royal rule of the Universe
Your well-thought words
Which aid and abed
Each of your ulterior motives
Far too many to count
I was kept taught and rapt to them
To you
By denial of my angst and inner doubtings

Trust not the still and silent snake

And yet in my own transcendence
The Zen I developed before you ever came along
The enlightenment for which you can take no credit, master
I did. I tried to forgive you
Release my pain
Along with my poignant disbelief
To your many Gods,
Place the blame upon them
To make sense of the inconsistencies

I was once but a sperm
Cloaked in the scent of desire
Wanting, wanting
My genetic disposition
Of narcissism
Megalomania
Self-awareness, as you’d say

I was at fault, a Y chromosome too
Half false, half true
Rushing forth with my emotions to the egg
The ovarian safe haven
Where I planted myself
Made a home, painted the walls a new color
To call it my own
Nesting in the fertile soil; zygote or embryo
Which is it?
Surely as with everything you know
Everything about me
And it helps to see your talent in the art of public speaking
Nothing captures attention
Like the slack of a jaw

You are wrong, you are cruel, and you are good at what you do

The findings of these deficiencies
Collect into a grand criticism
A tide pulsing with the moon
Full, pain; the rare eclipse
As you
Have; refrain from being
The one thing that I could count on
Confide in

How is that for looking long and hard?
Does my self contempt suit you?

Nothing can see us
Quit so clearly

As betrayal

Conversations With a Crazy Person

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Have you ever had one of those moments when it suddenly dawns on you that your brain is having a conversation with itself without any conscious effort on your part?

It happens to me every time I stop and pay attention to what my mind is doing.

My thoughts think for themselves. If I don’t have something demanding my undivided attention, my attention divides itself into a million pieces and gives each piece a full inspection. I know, it sounds crazy. See what I mean though? My brain can barely finish processing one idea before it flies into an over-analyzation autopilot.

I’ve always been this way. You know the type. I’m the girl who can barely get past “How’s it going?” without a fifteen minute pontification of the potential significance of the abstract patterns the syrup made on the waffles at breakfast. I think too much about too many things entirely too deeply and it matters a lot more than it should.

As a child I would hold mock trials in my front yard. My friends never objected. You think I’m being ridiculous and I won’t argue, but yes. It really happened. Regularly, and often.

It hasn’t changed much with age, either.

I married a lunatic, which wouldn’t say much about the point I’m trying to make except that his lunacy is deeply tied to his obsessive-compulsive need for structure. Predictability. Order. Patterns. His world falls apart if he’s not at least an hour and a half early to wherever he’s going. You think I’m exaggerating; I’m not. His job requires him to be on site by eight o’clock each morning; he’s there by 6:45am every day. In all the years he’s been employed, he has never been later than 6:45am. Not once.

He isn’t paid hourly.

We’re as opposite as two human beings can possibly get. I traveled like a hippie in the gypsy-freedom of my 20’s. I stayed awake until the sun rose regardless of the day of week, sleeping the mornings away in a tent (or simply on a blanket when I didn’t plan ahead and bring the tent, which was more typical) in some various mountainous terrain, where I had intentionally gotten lost the night before, learning the basics of another language or reading an autobiography or working on a term paper or studying for a final or swimming alone all the way across the lake, drinking coffee with dinner and dancing to the silence until I had to return to work or school. Even while working full time to put myself through college, double majoring at that, I never sacrificed the opportunity to live life to the fullest.

Him? He built his credit and trained himself to become the best he could be in his trade. Made sure he kept his lawn obsessively manicured and his vehicle ludicrously detailed, spotless.

Boring.

My philosophical mind drives him batshit crazy. The more curious I am about the why of things, the more OCD he gets about the how of them. My wonder is gasoline to the furious flame of his irritated ambivalence. It might be hilarious if it weren’t so totally crazy to live out in first person.

This particular wavelength I’m riding all started after a knee-jerk reaction I had to a flippant comment he made, the last time our polarities collided in a fury of spontaneous combustion. I told him he’s miserable because he takes himself way too seriously. He told me I make him miserable because I think too much and I take my thoughts too seriously.

His ‘crazy’ has a way of rubbing off on me; I digress.

I take my thoughts too seriously? Oh please. I take them as they come: all at once, all the time, all over the place and that’s that.

But as I continued to mind-screw his mouth-garbage, processing what was actually being said, an epiphany hit me. This is why I think too much (too deeply, too constantly, about too many things): my brain is searching for patterns in a patternless insanity.

I could’ve peed my pants with a “YES!”-type “aha” feeling when I stumbled upon this video; it hits the nail on the crazy man’s head: …Madness! WATCH IT THROUGH TO THE END.

What makes us who we are? Do you see a pattern?

If you’ve got a problem, yo I’ll solve it…

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If you’ve got a problem, yo I’ll solve it…

Throughout the course of my blogging experiences (as well as most of my life experiences lately), I’ve acquired a great accumulation of advice-type correspondences. I suppose this is the result of my deeply inquisitive nature, met with my love of people and my natural tendency of quickly recognizing the source of conflict and involuntarily recognizing possible solutions to said conflict(s). Surprisingly, I’ve discovered an overwhelming receptiveness to my advice; and in almost every circumstance, the advice was transformative and greatly helped in some way.

I enjoy the power of conflict-resolution; God created an uncanny desire within me to use my deep (and often overwhelming) empathy as a source for good in the lives of those around me. That very desire — the longing to bring a sense of peace and clarity and a fresh perspective to anyone who is struggling, hurting, confused, and/or in need of encouragement, direction, input, or advice of any kind — has created a very cool (and unexpected) path before me:

I’m starting an ‘advice column’ of sorts.

I’m not Dear Abby, but it seems to me there is a great need for holistic encouragement in many different walks of life, for many different reasons; and for whatever reason, it seems to be something God has gifted in me.

As I grow my advice page (it will be on this blog, as a separate page eventually), I will be accepting questions, inquiries, comments, and whatever else you’re inclined to share with me.

Previous issues I’ve addressed vary greatly. Relationships, spirituality, career choices, writing, friendships, family dynamics, abuse, addiction, codependency, time management, depression, mental illness, life changes, lifestyle choices, health, wellness, parenting, eating disorders, and just about all the stuff in-between.

I am not a professional therapist, and none of my contributions should replace qualified medical treatment where health or mental health are involved. However, my educational background met with my extensive hands-on experience and training with these real-life problems provide for both an intuitive and an objective approach to the resolution of most conflict experienced within the above parameters of day-to-day real-life issues for all of us.

My goal here is to use the abilities created within me to bring light to the shadows; to bring peace to counter chaos; to help discover clarity where it cannot seem to be found. God willing, this might help a few people who could use a listening ear and a compassionate heart. I’ll be that for you, if you need it.

If you’d like advice with something, or just want someone to listen to you vent your frustrations, you can contact me via email at:

thechampionwithinyou@gmail.com

All correspondences will remain completely confidential, and will not be published without explicit consent. I look forward to talking with you, traveling the unpredictable journeys with you, and being a part of your solution manifestation.

Be blessed!