A terrible wind swept over the desolate landscape as I
peered out the old windows. “There’s a storm coming.” I had announced to my
Mother but never took my eyes away from those strange clouds. Something about
them wasn’t right. They way moved, the odd way they twisted into each other;
writhing like monstrous white snakes. Unable to pull my attention elsewhere, I
noticed that they were changing. Nightmarish faces formed at the edges of those
slithering lines of cloud. Not faces…skulls. There were gaping black holes
where there should have been eyes as their long twisted jaws opened revealing
rows of dagger like teeth. The moment I was actually afraid is when they turned
those terrible features toward the house. “They’re demons.” I suddenly
whispered and started closing the blinds, hoping this would deter them from
looking inside. I knew we would only be in danger if I stood there and did
nothing. If I blocked them from looking in, they’d bypass us completely. I
wasn’t allowed the luxury of being afraid. I had to protect my Mother and the
house. There was no other option.
Talk about a weird dream and that was only just one scene
from many throughout the night. My dreams lately have had a very intense
Stephen King vibe, which I don’t mind all that much considering I love his
work. I know it’s my psyche working through internal issues that are still
sussing themselves out as they make their way to the surface of my
consciousness. My anxiety has been rearing its ugly face allot more lately, and
I wish it would bugger off.
I know where it stems from, but I refuse to allow it to stop
me from moving forward. Even though there are moments when the pain becomes too
solid, too real. A terrible entity whose sole purpose is to destroy everything
that I am from the darkest recesses of my mind. I do my best to get past it, to
ignore the snarling demon that snaps at my heels as I walk away. Amazingly,
it’s been quiet. Too quiet. Which is why I’m not all that surprised that it’s
trying to surface.
Gotta love the complexity of the human mind.
Slightly off subject but it’ll tie right back in (yay
slip’n’slide of insanity!) to the theme of this blog, is the long awaited
return of my childhood favorite characters Fox Mulder and Dana Scully of the
X-Files. That, right there…is a huge trigger to my psyche. A very painful
reminder that Dad is not here to see it. Heh, right as the long nails of my
fingertips danced along these black keys, the sting of liquid emotion started
at the corners of my eyes, forcing me to blink and take a deep needed breath. I
almost lost every ounce of composure when that old opening sequence filled the
screen; a flashback to those precious moments in time when we were getting
along and watching our favorite episodes. Even now, a huge lump of grief is
stuck at the back of my throat and my face is flushed, yet somehow my eyes
remain dry as I struggle to keep my composure.
*pauses to take a
hefty drink of her strong coffee from her Nightmare Before Xmas thermos*
I honestly thought I’d be better by now. These feelings are
unwanted. Silently tortured by a deep anguish that coils around the fragmented
pieces of a scarred piece of flesh that you would never suspect was once a
beating human heart. Dramatic, yes. Also a very accurate description of how I
perceive myself on the inside. I’m beginning to see more and more, that I am
not who I used to be. There are moments that I don’t recognize myself at all.
Trying so hard to remember the joy I used to have, letting it flow through me
to others. How much I thrived on being around people, soaking up their warmth
and laughter. It’s becoming harder for me to want to reach out to that. There
has always been an introverted side, but it had no problem sharing space as
well as taking shifts with its extroverted counterpart. Recently, the extrovert
has been absent or shut out and the introvert wants to keep it that way.
Painful truths have been brought to my attention regarding
family, mostly on my Father’s side. Things he had kept from me that I had to learn
from the family he kept away while I was growing up. It doesn’t just sting…it
burns in ways that causes my anxiety to rip through me like a heated sandstorm
until I’ve been reduced to nothing more than ash.
*smirks* Way to be
poetic, huh?
I was hoping I’d have more positive and upbeat things to
type out along this ghostly screen before me. Honestly, revealing this is the
last thing I wanted. There is just so much crazy in my head, I know that
rationally, the best way to deal with and eventually overcome it, is to talk it
out, work it out in the open and get through it. I don’t want to constantly
bombard my close friends and family verbally with what transpires in my brain.
Despite the fact that I know I’m still grieving, that I suffer from anxiety
that at times gets the better of me. That I even do my gorramed hardest to
fight off any visible sign of depression. I don’t want to be a walking pity
party. I never want to be perceived as someone who’s always bitching about how
hard living is. There is so much good to focus on no matter how much I’m
hurting inside. I want others to be happy, I want to be positive for them when
even they can’t be. I want to show them that it gets better, even if deep
inside the back of my mind, it doesn’t feel that way for myself.
Talk about a serious mind-screw. Especially when you
actively believe in, ‘Practice what you Preach’.
There are times, when I want to cut myself open, reach deep
inside and tear out the part of me that does nothing but feel. I hate being a
Reader. What some would label as an Empath, a Sensitive, or a Psychic, or a
Clairvoyant, or whatever you want to call it, take your pick. I’m just one of
those rare individuals who feels everything; the world, people, animals, you
name it…faar too much. I’ve developed the ability to shut it off, or mask it.
There was a while where I couldn’t feel anything. I was incredibly numb. I
guess the shock of losing someone will do that to you. That, and a whole shit
ton of other life altering situations piled on top of each other too. Here’s
the kicker (you’re gunna love this) I don’t believe I have any ‘special
abilities’. While others may see the way animals and children respond and react
to me as almost otherworldly or magical, I don’t see it that way. The odd times
I blurt things out loud, forget that I’ve done so until I learn they’ve come to
pass, or times I’ll dream of something and later on, it’ll somehow manifest in
real life. Or knowing when someone is thinking about me and they contact me not
long after, or knowing something is wrong before the person ever utters a sound
and it’s over the phone or through text, so you can’t say I was simply reading
their body language. This… (Whatever the hell it is) is a natural part of my
brain that happens to be a bit more active than most folk. It’s an enormous
pain in the ass. Especially when it tunes into something and holy hell, I have
no control over it. It’s horrible.
Lately, that part of my brain has been flipped on, non-stop.
I’ve been having dreams, or thinking of things, and the next thing I know, I’m
confronted with the fact that they’ve literally come to pass. That I was right.
I knew before it even happened or was brought to my attention. I know how weird
that sounds, trust me. I have gone back and forth, internally debating whether
I should be open about it or not. It’s not something I asked for. I’ve been odd
since I was a child, so I’ve learned to embrace my weirdness. I just don’t
choose to share it all that often due to leaving myself open for negativity. If
you honestly think I’m full of shit and delusional. Well, then… Kudos to you. No,
I’m being very serious. I am perfectly fine and accepting of the fact that
there will be people who think exactly that. I only ask, that you show an ounce
of diplomacy and be kind enough to not attack me for it. “If you don’t have
something nice to say, keep it to yourself.” Besides, I’ve got enough internal negativity,
my own brand of self-punishment if you will, so it’s all good. It’s one of the
reasons I pull back and go quiet. There is so much information streaming
through my brain that it becomes overwhelming white noise. The only time I can
find any comfort when my head is too loud, I spend time alone, in nature, or
among animals. They are incredibly calming. The earth has its very own energy,
and some areas are more calming than others. When I’m in those places, I can feel
the white noise subside, being replaced by the calm of nature all around me. It
truly helps.
I feel like I’m rambling at this point…which, in a sense I
am, but at least it’s entertaining?
*gives a Gaelic shrug
and takes a hefty drink of her coffee*
You know, there are times when I scare myself. More often
than not, actually. After having a dream of something, and learning later that
it’s happened… It’s honestly scary. Or just having this, ‘knowing’ that I can’t
explain… Or getting pictures in my head almost like memories from a dream and
feeling the emotions only to learn it’s actually happened. Especially when it’s
a disaster or tragedy and you’ve felt people’s terror before they died… I
fucking hate it. I don’t know why it’s been so intense lately, I thought it was
just due to being hormonal or being close to the full moon… Sure, that can
escalate picking up on things with more intensity but I just, I don’t know.
Like the ocean’s tides my inner waves have been pulling me all over the place.
Sometimes, I’m stranded while other times, I’m completely submerged.
Heh, I’m definitely a moon-brain like River Tam.
It’s amazing how truly complex the human mind really is.
Fascinatingly terrifying would be a better description.
Perhaps I just think too damned much for my own good. Gorramed
thing never shuts off.
Well my luvlies, I think it’s time I bid thee anon and find
something to occupy these brain-meats. Editing videos for my YouTube channel
should do the trick.
-Adieu
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