My body remembers feeling the pain. I wasn't supposed to feel pain. And yet, it's ingrained in my body. Something went wrong. Nothing's wrong now. And yet, I'm crying. The fear my body holds is visceral. My brain tries to calm me down. It does not work. I keep crying, I breathe. I panic. I breathe. I panic. Back and forth. Back and forth. I'm 26. I'm 12. I'm 26. I'm 12. I scream. My body's response. The memory plays. My body remembers. I'm aware of the why. My brain is calm. My brain is silent. My body shakes.
gain control of
It feels like her brain constantly resets.
That's the best way I can understand it.
To watch the ones you love become
different people is disheartening.
It's the disease they have that causes
them to revert to children or toddlers
depending on how bad it is.
You love them but it's difficult to watch.
It's difficult to hear them repeat themselves
and wonder who they are and why they're here.
It's like their brain has returned to factory settings,
only remember the bare minimum
when it comes to those they love
because it's stored in the cloud of their brain,
which will eventually fade away.
You choose to look at the dead field instead of the green grass.
The cliché phrase is true, you know?
The grass is greener on the other side.
Someone may tell you to look at the field.
The green one, not the one with no life.
You won't look at it until someone tells you.
But then you look at it and tilt your head.
Looking at something another way can bring change.
The goal shouldn't be to get to the other side.
The goal should be acknowledging it exists first.
Then you can slowly begin to make your way.
It's about the journey, not the destination.
It's another cliché phrase that fits.
We all have things we can look at differently.
It could be something we have no control over.
Or it could be something that you can change.
Whatever it is that's filling you with shame or denial,
Only you can be the one to decide it's time to change.
No more pretending like it doesn't exist or walking around it.
You can control your thinking.
Will you choose to look at the green grass?
Or will you continue to keep your head in the dirt?
I’ve been thinking a lot about words lately. Last week, I shared a blog post about how powerful words can be. A few days ago, I published an essay about how important it is to be aware of the power of your words when sharing online.
I wrote the essay after watching a preview clip of Meghan Markle’s interview. She discussed how the British tabloids have impacted her life and how difficult this journey has been. Yesterday, another clip from Markle’s interview was released. In the new clip, she discusses how she tried to adopt the British’s “stiff upper lip” but revealed that “what that does internally is probably really damaging.”
I like that Meghan Markle acknowledges this in the interview because it humanizes her. It’s refreshing to see her open up. I think it’s important that she acknowledged there’s damage in pretending everything is fine when it’s not. Her choosing in that moment to be honest about the difficulties she endures shows why it’s important not to allow your emotions to get lost in the craziness of life.
All too often, we’re told to swallow our feelings and go about life as though everything is fine. In actuality, everyone has something they’re going through. That doesn’t mean you have to tell every single person your life problems. But you don’t have to pretend like everything is fine around those who care about you and are there for you. Feeling emotions is often seen as weak. But feeling emotions doesn’t make you weak, it makes you human. When things are hard, processing emotions by allowing yourself to feel them is better than not letting anyone know you’re hurt and swallowing your tears.
At the end of the clip that was released yesterday, Meghan Markle mentioned how she takes things day by day because that’s all she can do. That’s what we can all do, take it one day at a time.
The mind is at war with itself.
Tugging back and forth
between what is rational
and what is emotional.
Foreign emotions ride the wave
of overwhelming intensity,
crashing into reasoning
before the mind can
comprehend what is happening.
Thoughts are left swirling
in madness as the heart shutters
like it’s surrounded by blowing snow
in the middle of a blackout blizzard.
The rational part tries to gain control,
but is met with the feeling
of not breathing while swimming.
Eventually, rationality takes the reigns,
stopping the pain.
I used to be uncomfortable
with silence among others.
Sitting and not saying a single
word was my personal hell.
To be honest, it still can be.
Why aren't they saying anything?
Is it that hard to start a conversation?
Say, hi.....no, that's too much.
I once went on a hike
with my family, and my sister
pointed out how much
I was constantly filling the air
with my own voice.
Stop talking and enjoy the silence
was her advice to me as
we were descending the
I didn't know how to do
that, for I didn't realize
how much I was talking.
I was resisting the quiet
humans often label as
Since that eyeopening
moment, I've become more
comfortable with hearing nothing
when with a group of people.
The natural instinct is to say
something because we deem
it's better than saying nothing
and feeling uncomfortable
about losing precious time.
I've been building awareness
about feeling comfortable
with the uncomfortableness
that comes along
with the construct of silence.
Silence in my car
alone with my thoughts
is another monster I have yet
When the radio doesn't work,
I become annoyed.
I'd rather hear something
with a beat than listen
to the same worries
My thoughts are jumbled,
writing allows me to straighten
Conquering silence is a lifelong
battle between being
unaware of how much you're
saying to fill the air
to being too aware
that any sound
can make you question
who is actually there,
listening to the buzzing
in your brain when the radio