Two by two, hands of Blue

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

Messages from the Dead

The soft sound of pattering fills my ears as gentle sheets of rain trickle down from gloomy skies, accompanied by the shrill call of a seagull somewhere off in the distance. Cool, moist air dances in through the open window as I sit, indian style, with my recent birthday present on my lap; eerie shadows stretch along the walls as the ghostly white screen casts soft light along my neck and face. I pause and take a long drink of my coffee, enjoying the way it slides down my throat and pools within my stomach like a hug from the inside. A better morning than the last, my emotional state having leveled out to a mostly normal status compared to how I felt yesterday when I rose from the other worlds. The days leading up to yesterday were incredibly hard; emotionally speaking, I was a gorramed mess. Nothing I did seemed to calm the static from inside my head. Even when I tried to write, to type out the chaos behind my eyes through poetic-prose, I found myself worse off than Sisyphus. Plainly put, it was maddening.

Due to the sporadic nature of my emotions my mental state was beginning a dangerous decent into the rabbit hole. A place I never willingly go.

Terrible thoughts were coursing through the fried pathways of my mind and all the while I was screaming soundlessly within myself for it to all just stop. It had become so bad that it was beginning to manifest as horrific anxiety; breathless and on edge I felt as though some monstrous unseen hand wrapped its skeletal fingers along my ribcage and was squeezing the life out of me.

Not a pleasant experience, no. Not at all.

There was so much venom dancing through my thoughts, my emotions having gone rabid; ripping into me at every available opportunity. I was helplessly trapped inside myself. Nothing helped. Not the cool air of a beautiful winter day, not the playful interaction of small song birds thanking me for bringing them wild bird seed. I tried so very hard to get away from myself, from these self-destructive thoughts that I knew were initially brought on by an unwanted yet necessary evil I must face once a month.

For the past week I have struggled to find my words again. To sit here calmly and hear the soft tapping of my now long nails dancing fluidly along these black keys. But every time I tried, every time I even had an inkling to allow some of this poison out, I was stopped. My brain would fill with white noise, my breath would hitch, pain would slither through my ribcage as my chest tightened and I’d just sit here in frustration, completely defeated.

The dreams held no more comfort than my waking hours. My escape into the other worlds held no safety as it always has, just more shadows and confusion. I felt impossibly alone; trapped within the endless twisting labyrinth of my mind. I had even fought myself to watch something that would have brought me some kind of peace, but it only triggered more sorrow. I decided to start watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer again, more as background noise…what a terrible mistake that was on my part. Being that it was watched almost religiously by my Father, instead of it bringing me comfort, I was suffocated in grief. That’s when the frayed strings of my sanity began to tear and break loose. That’s when the sickness pooled to the surface and I found myself drowning in my own self-hatred.

You don’t deserve to live. You are a worthless excuse for a human being. You break everything you touch. You are nothing.

I couldn’t breathe as tears stung at my eyes, threatening to pool along my lash line and escape in streams of liquid emotion down heated skin. A tremble had started in my hands and no matter how I tried to fight off the horrible thoughts ripping through my brain, the anxiety and panic only intensified and my heart felt like it was going to reenact a scene from Alien and morph into a chestburster at any moment.

Somehow, later on in the early hours of night…it ebbed and began to fade away. It had reached a dangerous level and nearly pulled me apart at the seams. Thankfully, its attempts to destroy me from the inside out were futile.

It’s rare when my emotions go through a nuclear melt down during my Monthly Self-Destruct Sequence. The ‘crazy’ generally happens prior to said event, not during. When it does, it’s bad. Very bad. The term, ‘mentally unstable’ seems almost too gentle for the madness that coursed through me.

*chuckles and shakes her head before taking another hefty drink of her coffee*

“Hello? Is there anybody in there? Just nod if you can hear me. Is there anyone at home?” I heard these words singing in my head when my eyes fluttered open this morning. “Come on now, I hear you’re feeling down. Well, I can ease your pain and get you on your feet again.”

The strangest part is as Pink Floyd’s, ‘Comfortably Numb’ played only certain lines through my thoughts as I rose from sleep, I was beginning to remember my dreams. Namely, I was speaking to my Dad.

It was nothing more than a blip in a series of different dream segments. Yet for some reason, this was the one I remembered above all the others. The one that I know was a message I was meant to recall and study once I was awake.

We were watching tv and Sigourney Weaver made an appearance. Dad had said, “15 months.” Something to do with how much time she had left. Saddened by the news I replied softly, “No! Aw, dammit. I’ve always wanted to meet her and now I won’t get that chance.”

I don’t think it means she’s going to die. It felt more like she was going away. But the number 15 means something. It could be 6 or the 15^th or 15 days, etc. It was definitely Dad and his voice is still dancing behind my eyes as though I just spoke to him. It’s also very odd that I would wake with that song playing in my head as though I was listening to the radio when I fell asleep to only the sound of the rain trickling gently along the roof.

Whether it’s my subconscious using him as a way to speak to me or it was actually him visiting me in dreamscape, the message was heard loud and clear. No idea what it means, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out when I’m meant to. That’s usually how it works for me anyway.

Well my luvlies, it’s time I bid thee anon and find something interesting to occupy my brain-meats with.

-Adieu

Messages within the Rain

Gray skies weep softly as the sun fights to push it's life giving rays through the thick cloud layer. What should be a brightening skyline is replaced by rain filled billows of moisture, causing the air to smell crisp and fresh. It's a beautiful early January morning, the fifth day of the new year and I find myself sitting out on the back porch, hidden away from the soft pattering of rain while an array of strange dreams continue to echo playfully behind my eyes. 

Familiar places, morphed into something new yet old at the same time. A skewed perception of an apartment I grew up in, familiar yet not the same. A somewhere that felt like home so I would feel more at ease. Funny how dreams never quite make sense when you try to recall them, as though the layers in which they are formed would seem almost like a Salvador Dali painting come to life. Seemingly normal at the time they took place, for in that altered state we are all on an internal journey of our own subconscious, where even the most bizarre of things are rarely questioned. Only when we're brought back into our waking selves; a small rebirth into the harshness of our realities do we try to rationalize what we've experienced. Which can sometimes be overwhelmingly confusing.

I've always been able to work out the meanings presented within that strange labrynth I traveled before I woke. Sometimes it's obvious and I'm aware of the message before my eyes open and I take a deep breath. Yet there are times when there are too many symbols, too many images and moments that may take an entire day Or even two, to decipher. 

Then there are the dreams that sneak toward the forefront of my mind when something in the waking world happens; almost like déjà vu. The message having literally come to life. Those are usually known as 'Prophetic Dreams', experiencing something through the subconscious only to have it actually happen when you're awake. Sometimes subtle or so very minute you don't think twice about it...when sometimes it's like a sensory memory and you feel as though you're suddenly dreaming. 

I tend to have those dreams often, mostly the subtle variety. A song will play randomly like background music (especially odd when I sleep without listening to music) and I'll hear it within a few hours after waking. 

I have this odd ability of knowing how certain people are feeling if I dream about them. If it's very realistic and they're in a good mood, excited to be talking to me again, when I wake I'll know I'll be hearing from them soon, and it always happens. If they're weird towards me, or even angry, when I'm awake...well, the same thing. I don't know why I can do this, it's been happening since I was very small. It actually comes in handy quite often when I haven't heard from someone in awhile. Weird yet kinda cool.

*pauses to take a hefty drink of her magical coffee of doom*

Damn, I love mornings like this. It's not sprinkling like it was when I first started this entry, now it's actually coming down in a steady rhythm of cold, wet sheets. I can only imagine what the freeways and major streets are going to be like here in Southern California. People out here are slightly inept when it comes to driving in rain. That's putting it very nicely... *chuckles* And as I was typing that out, I could hear the very distinct, high pitched sound of sirens off in the distance. Nothing like stupid people, bald tires and bad driving on slick pavement.

On that note, I need to put my laundry into the dryer and wake up. Well, on days like this all I want to is curl up in bed and listen to that beautiful sound of rain pattering against the roof of the house. 

*scampers off do so but decides to write a bit more*

Last month was harder emotionally than I had expected it would be. I tried to be a part of the Christmas spirit, but I felt...jaded. I was starting to shut down inside as old emotions began to surface. Emotions I thought I had already dealt with. Apparently that just wasn't the case. I thought I'd be okay, better in fact due to being in a much healthier and stable environment than the previous year. Maybe that's why those emotions took hold; I feel safer that I have since 2011. Before Dad got sick and my life began to tilt on its axis towards events I was never prepared for.

I really tried to be 'jolly' and there were a few moments I felt festive. But that sinking feeling in my chest only worsened and I found myself growing cold inside. Knowing that December 20th was Dad's 68th birthday...but he wasn't here. Knowing that this Christmas Eve was my birthday but I wouldn't celebrate it...there would be no party, no cake; over shadowed by the eve of a now very commercialized holiday. I realized why I had gone cold inside. The bitterness was welling up inside me and I had to fight it back so no one would see it just behind my eyes. So I tried something different; I chopped my hair off and got two new cartilage piercings on my Dad's birthday. I'm actually glad I did. I really don't miss my long hair because it wasn't that long to begin with (not to my standards) and I really wanted to change. 

I'm trying to do my best to remain positive, still plan on getting Ellie running right so I can begin driving her again. 

I'm still incredibly grateful to every beautiful soul that has selflessly helped me these past few years. Especially last year when I was starting to entertain some very dark thoughts that would've put a permanent stop to any kind of future. They...still pop up from time to time, more than I'd care to admit and I find myself pushing them away by trying to look forward. It doesn't help that my skin condition decided to flare up around my birthday and is still healing. Being in that kind of pain, brought on by internalized stress, heart ache and old emotions... It tends to wear you down, even if things are finally appearing to slowly get better again. 

I'm focusing on small things that bring me joy or a sense of purpose. Little things that I know make a profound difference at the end of the day. I want to be better, so that one day I can have the means to give back. That's honestly all I've ever wanted. 

And as the rain pours down all around me, an icy wind whipping along the back of my neck, I shall bid you lovelies anon and try to find something positive to distract myself with.

-Adieu