Shattered Glass Life After Abuse

Sometimes what stirs in the mind and soul spills out in a way that feels more like broken pieces found after a storm rips through a town. I am learning that allowing the free associations to come lightens the load I carry that can't find its place to compartmentalize. Humans need means to let go. Writing Poetry is my way. It isn't a picture of my current state of mind, but simply a dance of words, and expression of madness that is healthy, not harmful. Words released in wild display somehow is freeing and brings happiness. Sometimes I think we need to stop trying to explain. Hope is always found in knowing God and being in His presence. I listened to the thoughts in my head And noticed I was drifting. Seated behind the wheel of a car My soul watched me moving away. Is it because I am tired? Or am I coming unglued? I don't know, can't tell. Just familiar - what I used to do. Dissociation comes. Even when it isn't called. It shows up on it own. ...

Have you ever felt like you don't fit? Nobody likes me. Why was I not included? How long did it take you to figure out that you are different? The calls never came. You didn't get invited. They went without you. You just happen upon a notice.... and you didn't even know .... you offered to help, but no one called you back.... you wanted to minister, but you are avoided....you asked to give a testimony, but your offer was declined... Not now. No time. We will call. I'll get in touch. Thanks, bye... (silence.... permanent silence) What is wrong with me? I am a reject. People act all loving... they pretend to like me... they say I am nice, but really, I know I am not their friend. When they get together with friends ... to go do something fun... to share a special occasion... to visit, to enjoy, to talk, to hang, to know...... I am not invited. Sound like a whiner.... who cares? But the problem is.... am I different.... no that is not it?  Is there someth...

I look out my bedroom window...past the white painted rocking chair (that was not painted until it started to mold so no matter how clean I try to get it - it still is dirty looking and my mother-in-law always brought a towel to clean it off or sit on when she was still alive and here for her visit 2-3 times a year)....funny what goes through our mind....that has been 5 years if not 10 and every single time I see the rocking chairs - this is what I think. Focus! I look out of my bedroom window, and past the top rung on the white painted rocking chair, and I see joy..... Daffodils dancing in the early spring wind. They make me smile, which is something I really needed at this moment, because I have not been feeling much interested in life, living, breathing, doing, being. I am thankful for the gentle breeze that makes these delicate cheery flowers wiggle on their long slender green legs. A mental break from the cloud the held me away from connection and joy. I may not be closely linked ...