Posted on by thetruthandtheliesofthejourney

On The Cusp of A Breakdown or Break-through

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I don’t know if these walls are getting smaller or if I am. Are they closing in or am I closing down? My mind is so weighted down, that I feel sick. I feel so unwell. More unwell than I have ever felt.

I want to mean something to someone. I wanna feel so wanted that it spews from my veins. I want to be surprised with a kiss so passionate that I feel dizzy when it slows to a stare. I need to be loved in a way that I feel safe for the first time in my life. How long have I waited? Waiting always….

I want to feel worth it. Worthy. Enough. Why is it so hard to do that? Why do I feel so small around everyone? There are stories you hear about people who cry out so loud that all at once, their voice is just..gone. I am shrinking smaller and smaller and grasping at straws for ways to keep moving.

It really doesn’t matter what I go through, and how hard those things are. People just assume that I will be ok and keep going and going like I am untouchable, unstoppable. Well, here’s a secret that evidently no one has figured out yet.. I am not bulletproof. And the holes have become so many that every secret and every ache and every pierce are seeping out every single one of them.

I have made excuses for my heartaches and I have tried to explain them away to protect the embarrassment of another failed attempt to love deeply and be loved deeply and entirely. However, I can not hide what I have no more room for inside of me.

I am sleeping alone every night now. Night after night, I go to bed wondering how much more silence I can endure. I am not alone in this house. Just in this bed, in my thoughts, in my heart, in this pain, and in a love that is not reciprocated in a way that I deserve. Because if it was, I wouldn’t be in this pain. I wouldn’t express it and not feel safe afterwards. There is no rescue. There is no Knight in shining armor. I can see, just like always, that they won’t fight for me, and that is enough to fully break me. What is so hard about it? Fight! Love me the way I deserve. Help me. I feel pathetic that I have begged for years for what is the bare minimum in love.

I feel like I am hiding in someone else’s house. Someone else’s life. And I am not welcome anymore. I am just another item in this house in the way. I should be stuffed in a bag or a box and donated or placed in that building. That way, everyone can do what I must be getting in the way of.

I’ve had a headache for going on 2 weeks now. I feel like I’m done. Done giving and giving and giving. I am officially pouring from an empty cup. By the end of this, I will be the new villain in the story. Not the person who has been bent and broken and drained of everything I was filled with.

Karma is a fickle little thing. They say that we get exactly what we deserve. Well, can you please tell them that I get it now, and I don’t need to learn anymore? Whoever they are…..

I don’t know why I cleaned this house. I don’t know why I am throwing all of my things away, things that have meant so much to me over the years. They don’t seem to mean anything to me now. Still, throwing them away still will never make it enough. It’s never enough. There’s always something after that I am doing wrong. Even my feelings are wrong and in the way.

Maybe by the end of this, I will breakthrough and get to light at the end of the tunnel. Lord knows it’s past time for a love that I truly deserve. But it’s different. It’s a love that is waiting at the end that is just for myself. Finally showing passion and intimacy and grace to myself that I have never been able to show before.

But I’m not there yet. I am in this room, alone day after day after day. Hurting and broken, and having to go through it in a breakdown…..

Posted on by thetruthandtheliesofthejourney · 1 Comment

Note To My Subscribers

(***UPDATE: I wanted to update by informing all subscribers and visitors that my blog is still so important to me. However, let’s just say it’s under emotional construction. In the past two years, I have had my heart absolutely shattered by someone whom I considered to be the closest to me. And then before even fully having time to process and deal with that, I lost the 3 closest people to me in my life. My grandfather first, then my mom, and right after, my grandmother. Oh and in the midst of that, had my first grandbaby. My heart and mind are still reeling. Please be patient with me. I have continued to write behind the scenes and will be back. I am so looking forward to getting back to writing and sharing my art with this world, and I am sorry if I have let anyone down.***)

I wanted to take a moment and say thank you so much for your support. Writing is everything to me and it means even more to know that people enjoy and support my passion.

I wanted to take a moment to encourage you to go check out my older posts and entries. Just scroll to the bottom to the archives and let me know what you think.

There are entries of dark poetry, imaginative poetry, stories and even more vulnerable posts about motherhood, love, heartbreak, growth, healing, and more.

Again, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of your support and love. And I look forward to continuing this journey with you.

Debra ❤

Posted on by thetruthandtheliesofthejourney

Whiskey Saturdays, And No Regrets..

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Cusps of a wrist slit, and all of a sudden you meet a person who changes your mindset. Maybe you meet someone like that daily, weekly, or sometimes, it’s a once in a lifetime meet.

A somber song about whiskey blares out of another car at the pump station, and you think of the last whiskey binge you had giggling to yourself at the tripping of your feet, the way your clothes still smelled of campfire the next morning, and how you can’t quite remember how you showered before bed, but you did.

In these moments, it’s as though the hourglass flips over again to give us another go at it. Laughable and angering at times, because some of those cusps of a wrist slit moments are the only moments in your life where you were 100% decisive about something.

But no matter, because here you sit at the pump station, stealing the music notes of another, as if illegally downloading it to memory. Now, briefly cringing at the thought of understanding exactly what they are saying, and smiling at the prospect of it.

You laugh to yourself as it really hits you. No one has time for your nonsense like you have had for theirs. You recall endless phone calls, endless support on your end, seemingly withered away due to the annoyance of your constant mockery of a life and your bottomless chaos. Yet, you still see beauty in this tarnish.

You now design your brain another future night of whiskey, and you know just who it will be with. That brings a great comfort and even an excitement of what new whiskey adventures await you to piece together once they have came to pass.

You put the car in drive, roll the windows down, and secretly cheers to the silence. For the confinements of your mind, if nothing else, have gifted you the comfort of yourself.

Beautiful and raw, broken and wanting, sexy and explicitly ripped wide open, and smiling through it, even if only for these brief moments.

Love, even if it’s with your drunken body. Runs circles around the fire and all at once, jump over it. Savor a whiskey-fueled kiss with passion and smoke. Peel away your layers and dance naked and free. And cheers to you, on every whiskey Saturday.