The journey begins ... or continues ... articulating the rollercoaster that is my life

[mumstheword]

Ok happy lovey poem time:p:inlove::happy::joyful::geek::rolleyes:

My guy,
helps me fly.

He's a rock and I'm water.
He's kind to my son(s) and daughter(s).

He's been to hell and back, like me,
lost his first love to meaningless slaughter,
had his brains beaten for another's sin's.
We are both recovering from much trauma.

Shacked up and in love, together; we are free.

We enjoy silliness and much laughter.

Without him, I doubt I'd have made it,
my best friend, I wouldn't trade it
all, for anything,
coz we've got love and it's worth it.
:):p:D:laugh::joyful::roflmao::smug::happy::playful::hug::hug:

 

[mumstheword]

Ooowewe I'm cringing over above too sacharine freaking sickly over the top.lovey dovey shit I just wrote above.

Feeling such horrid shame, fear and debiliation. We've got a house inspection in a week and I'm a f*cking mess .
I don't even.want to be here..I don't want to.live here. Today I just wanted a break from being. Shit. I'm freaking. Gonna have to come clean, even.more about this illness. So Damn terrifying. So freakingly shame-filled. Ugh. I'm gonna have to be brave. Tell people explain horrid and embarrassing stuff ugh ugh ugh.

Have to tell housing and apply for extra help once I'm out of here. I need help with learning to drive especially and some basic life skills I've never learnt, on account of all this crapola.

 

[mumstheword]

I'm gonna be moving away from my safe person.
Scary, scary, f*cking scary.
So is staying here. I can't do it. I'm just getting worse and worse the longer I stay here.
I need to move into my own space, with my kids, so badly. Somewhere not scary. Please Housing help me. You've treated me brutally. Please have mercy.

 

[mumstheword]

:cry: Me and my froggy, listening to Never gonna get it, by ,en vogue, now The Stones, fool to cry (Rolling Stones, that is).

Getting into the music, my guy's pick's.

Froggy is my go-to cry friend I can cry into.

You know, this thing catches up. So much fear and sadness right now.
So much excruciating shame-filled guilty grief.
I can't totally hide it but it hurts so to show it. I can't believe I'm just so jaded, hurt and laying low so low.
The more I feel into it I just feel such heeeeeaaavvvvvvyyyy sadness.
It's gentle though, it's just sadness and grief. Yes, lots of loss.
Processing a lot.
The music helps. I'm gonna back into it one day; The music making.
I sang along to en vougue a little.
It's that catch 22 if you're symptomatic, you feel , well you know how you feel ... and you feel shame for being like this and that just.feeds into the whole "I'm terribly flawed" I'm shockingly inadequate because this is happening to me and I can't pretend anymore. I'm too tired and sad to fake it. Faking it would be fatal at this stage.

I'm now fighting to get up out of the quicksand, into the safety of land and people who care.
I just want to hide here, do nothing. For God knows how long.
I do have faith.
I am a woman of faith.
Strong faith and massive uncertainty at the same time.

The excruciating massive gaping emotional wound, dripping still. I'm barely growing skin. The scab is easily ripped and torn open again.
The injury was very deep. I think we are talking "moral injury" here. Still hurting and newly reopened.
However, I'm open to grace.

Had a lovely catch up with my bestie who lost her besty, recently, also my good friend.

Yeah, we are both women of faith and it's helping.

We talked about that and healthy food and being sick and recovery too, Pete and how f*cking heartbreakingly sad, we lost a lovely man to this disease, I believe. It's a reality check. That's why no faking unless I absolutely have too. Can't hack it anymore. For now anyway.

I have to do whatever it takes to get better, even if that means I have to surrender to it right now. I still want to hide and.not let anyone see how this affects me. Can't bare that either. Everything is painful and numb, zombie again, but at the same time, I have myself, I'm much more here. I'm communicating. I actually feel human. I'm most definitely a person! I'm a human woman. I matter to me now. I have myself back.:hug:

 

[Swift]

You are most s definitely human.
I thought the saccharine stuff was so beautiful. Bothint

 

[Swift]

Damn hand. (V v broken, and in a new splint that I'm getting used to)
Nothing more beautiful than people in love.
I'm glad you have your faith, even a little jealous!
You'll be ok mate, you've weathered worse storms than this.

 

[mumstheword]

Damn hand. (V v broken, and in a new splint that I'm getting used to)
Nothing more beautiful than people...

Took til I was 37 to find someone, but yeah, nick of time, I was in bad shape when we met.
Actually we both were.

I can't believe how generous you are @Swift you're hand hurts like f*ck and you still have the kindness and generosity of spirit to encourage me.
I want love for you. It's a miracle but miracles can happen, my survival and my guys survival and our relationship is testament to that.:p:happy::playful::inlove::hug::hug::hug:

 

[mumstheword]

So I'm working on that shame-self-judgement stuff.

I'm recognising that it's back to parts.

Child self has gotten very insistent and stubborn lately. Safety outside the home feels like such an uncertainty and I know it's child self's reasoning that's taken over so strongly.

I'm triggered by narcissist and hypocritical type rhetoric. I feel alienated by things like "gender" and identity "victim" politics. I think it's insane, unless it's grounded in fact, freedom(s) and autonomy for all.

Freedom is ideally and pragmatically protected by sound policies and cultural mores. It seems so polarised and unsafe for people like me at the moment. I'm a firmly respectful modern but kinda traditional individual who deserves the right to think my own thoughts and to resist any and all manipulation, if that's at all possible.

I am such a stickler for honesty and rigorous adherence to open-ended multi-faceted lines of inquiry.

I guess I'm an intellectual in a way, but I'm really a poet and mystically influenced by my own profound, transcendent experiences and life's struggles.

I have different parts that are seemingly oppositional to each other. I mean I have a super-size negro Christian woman who lives in my inner terrain (she sings and cooks and loves God very much).
I have an anti-social pagan ancient crone, she's quite powerful, wise and irreverential to "society" , very nature oriented.
I have a Rasta "Queen", who is a musical shamanic protector and powerful "freedoms, rights and responsibilities" advocate.

I live in my teen and child parts a lot.

I am a budding scholarly cultural theorist but not one who believes she's safe or able to come out yet.

Child self is running my world right now. It's a bit of a problem. She's too frightened.
She's never experienced enough safety, she still sees and hears too much that confirms that view.

I'm dispelling shame though. Thanks to everyone here, in large part.

 

[mumstheword]

So little me; out with it, what do you need right now?
Want a mummy:cry:.

 

[mumstheword]

"No Mummy coming, little me, you're sad about that, aren't you?

That too.
I'm scared and I'm sad.
I feel bad.

 

[mumstheword]

People aren't safe it's not safe to be here.

 

[mumstheword]

I can't do it. I'm not doing it. I won't do it.