It’s been far too long since these hands
have glided across darkened keys. Words trapped behind silent eyes, desperate
to escape, to be unleashed. To shatter these terrible walls built up by a
wounded psyche. Nothing more than a leviathan of scar tissue left in the wake
of unimaginable mental torment.
Somehow…deep within the shadowed remnants of a broken spirit, a flicker of something remained. The smallest thing, nothing more than a trinket it seems of what used to be… By the grace of the unknown, survived intact.
I never meant for radio silence. To simply cease my activities as if I never existed. Sadly, there was a part of myself that wanted everyone to forget. So that I could crumble into a heap of my own self-hatred. But as many of you know…I’m too damned stubborn to simply disappear, despite nearly being successful this time. I had to heal and for the life of me, no matter what I tried, I had to slink back into myself and go still. No, it was not an easy decision to make. I just didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t recognize myself anymore. My own reflection became a living nightmare. In fact, in my place was a monster from my childhood…peering back at me through these haunted eyes. It became a daily struggle to even chance the smallest glimpse of any reflective surface, knowing that this monster shared my features. That in doing so I wouldn’t see myself but the horrible reminder of the thing that nearly ruined my life.
So much time has passed, as if I’ve been isolated within a hell-scape I wasn’t aware I could awake from. Struggling to remember, to search through my fragmented mind at what was real and what was my own twisted creation. Swallowed whole by a ravenous ID.
“Change my appearance” I thought; which would do some good. So I tried dying my hair black, but that only made me feel invisible. Later I stripped the darkness away and went back to red…but the fire in me had gone out. There was only one thing I could do…so I chopped two feet of hair off. Only to proceed to lighten my hair through bleach baths and went golden blonde. Now… I want to change it again. Possibly back to my natural color or back to red, but I’m still on the fence. Because I’m also fully aware of the simple fact that in order to feel confident in my own flesh again, that turning point in my mental state must first come from within. A feat that has not been an easy one.
I’ve wanted to express so much to all of you, thinking that perhaps if I just filmed videos about it that somehow it would help. Sadly, that warped inner perception snarled that if I did, I was just doing it for attention. That I needed to stay on course and remain trapped in silence. That I had to suffer. Alone.
Well I’m done drowning.
In the face of experiencing flashbacks from an assortment of trauma, it has become easier. For the longest time I would shatter into numbing panic attacks if I even thought of stepping foot outside. Driving; a once soul-fulfilling experience became nearly unbearable. I was literally trapped inside my own body while silently screaming to remember what it was like to be normal. To just be. It has taken over five long years for Eleanore to be road worthy again and the first time I got to drive her on my own a few months ago was absolutely horrifying. Through blurring vision and trembling hands I managed to push through it.
This is one of the reasons as to why I chose not to work faire this year. I didn’t want to just jump back in when I wasn’t sure how my psyche would react to it. I did manage to visit briefly for one day of Pirate weekend just to see how I would handle it. It’s only by being there did I realize I had made the correct decision in returning as a patron. I wanted to enjoy myself this time and I did. That added responsibility of working/volunteering may have thrown me off the edge again, which was not something I could mentally afford after the progress I’ve finally been able to make. Last year proved that simply trying to push myself just wasn’t going to cut it this time. You can bring a horse to water but you can’t force it to drink. Lesson learned.
After doing much internal searching of my own fragmented mind, I’ve also realized that no matter how hard I’ve tried to force the pieces of myself back together, they just don’t fit right anymore. I am not the same person. Neither am I the ‘empty husk’, vile words spoken by the twisted voice deep inside the recesses of my soul. I am nothing more than an amalgamation of everything I used to be and might be. An old car that’s undergone an engine rebuild. The body is a little dinged up, the paint chipped and rusting in some spots but it’s still the same faithful machine that will get you to where you need to be. Like my beautiful Eleanore; we both needed some time in the shop before we could venture out safely again.
For the time being I’ll end it here. Gotta admit, kinda impressed I was even able to write in the first place considering it’s been a few years since my last update. I won’t make any promises about writing daily again. What I can offer is that I’ll try. Even if it’s an unimpressive drabble of thoughts piled into a few measly paragraphs. It’s better to try and fail, than sit back and do nothing as the forked tongues of unseen horrors whisper terrible lies to a fragile mind.
And with that, I shall bid thee adieu.
-Onyx
Somehow…deep within the shadowed remnants of a broken spirit, a flicker of something remained. The smallest thing, nothing more than a trinket it seems of what used to be… By the grace of the unknown, survived intact.
I never meant for radio silence. To simply cease my activities as if I never existed. Sadly, there was a part of myself that wanted everyone to forget. So that I could crumble into a heap of my own self-hatred. But as many of you know…I’m too damned stubborn to simply disappear, despite nearly being successful this time. I had to heal and for the life of me, no matter what I tried, I had to slink back into myself and go still. No, it was not an easy decision to make. I just didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t recognize myself anymore. My own reflection became a living nightmare. In fact, in my place was a monster from my childhood…peering back at me through these haunted eyes. It became a daily struggle to even chance the smallest glimpse of any reflective surface, knowing that this monster shared my features. That in doing so I wouldn’t see myself but the horrible reminder of the thing that nearly ruined my life.
So much time has passed, as if I’ve been isolated within a hell-scape I wasn’t aware I could awake from. Struggling to remember, to search through my fragmented mind at what was real and what was my own twisted creation. Swallowed whole by a ravenous ID.
“Change my appearance” I thought; which would do some good. So I tried dying my hair black, but that only made me feel invisible. Later I stripped the darkness away and went back to red…but the fire in me had gone out. There was only one thing I could do…so I chopped two feet of hair off. Only to proceed to lighten my hair through bleach baths and went golden blonde. Now… I want to change it again. Possibly back to my natural color or back to red, but I’m still on the fence. Because I’m also fully aware of the simple fact that in order to feel confident in my own flesh again, that turning point in my mental state must first come from within. A feat that has not been an easy one.
I’ve wanted to express so much to all of you, thinking that perhaps if I just filmed videos about it that somehow it would help. Sadly, that warped inner perception snarled that if I did, I was just doing it for attention. That I needed to stay on course and remain trapped in silence. That I had to suffer. Alone.
Well I’m done drowning.
In the face of experiencing flashbacks from an assortment of trauma, it has become easier. For the longest time I would shatter into numbing panic attacks if I even thought of stepping foot outside. Driving; a once soul-fulfilling experience became nearly unbearable. I was literally trapped inside my own body while silently screaming to remember what it was like to be normal. To just be. It has taken over five long years for Eleanore to be road worthy again and the first time I got to drive her on my own a few months ago was absolutely horrifying. Through blurring vision and trembling hands I managed to push through it.
This is one of the reasons as to why I chose not to work faire this year. I didn’t want to just jump back in when I wasn’t sure how my psyche would react to it. I did manage to visit briefly for one day of Pirate weekend just to see how I would handle it. It’s only by being there did I realize I had made the correct decision in returning as a patron. I wanted to enjoy myself this time and I did. That added responsibility of working/volunteering may have thrown me off the edge again, which was not something I could mentally afford after the progress I’ve finally been able to make. Last year proved that simply trying to push myself just wasn’t going to cut it this time. You can bring a horse to water but you can’t force it to drink. Lesson learned.
After doing much internal searching of my own fragmented mind, I’ve also realized that no matter how hard I’ve tried to force the pieces of myself back together, they just don’t fit right anymore. I am not the same person. Neither am I the ‘empty husk’, vile words spoken by the twisted voice deep inside the recesses of my soul. I am nothing more than an amalgamation of everything I used to be and might be. An old car that’s undergone an engine rebuild. The body is a little dinged up, the paint chipped and rusting in some spots but it’s still the same faithful machine that will get you to where you need to be. Like my beautiful Eleanore; we both needed some time in the shop before we could venture out safely again.
For the time being I’ll end it here. Gotta admit, kinda impressed I was even able to write in the first place considering it’s been a few years since my last update. I won’t make any promises about writing daily again. What I can offer is that I’ll try. Even if it’s an unimpressive drabble of thoughts piled into a few measly paragraphs. It’s better to try and fail, than sit back and do nothing as the forked tongues of unseen horrors whisper terrible lies to a fragile mind.
And with that, I shall bid thee adieu.
-Onyx
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