Shattered Glass Life After Abuse

This is an inside look at someone who is going through a dissociative state. The thoughts are scattered and you will see various internal conversations. I wrote this many years ago and found it today on my computer. Today, I am no longer dissociative but I am amazed at what I wrote. I titled it Wires On a Bomb so I will leave it that way. #mental illness #dissociative #did Here it is: so much wiring within It is unstable - I know. Jittery, moving about ever so slight but it does not need much to explode. Can I figure out which wires to remove before its too late? Do I dare to try? No matter what I do--except to enter a catatonic freeze--will increase the possibility, the odds of its blast. So what does one do? Twisted, fragile, so not wanting to be at this moment, this point in time, this crisis ---again, again and again. Seconds feel like hours, and hours prolong like days...especially if you pause, to pray or gain some kind of controllable ease. I speak...

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. ...

Another one.... another lost day.... they add up so much... so many lost days. Running on the inside, hurting on the outside. Words, oh so many words.... healing, clinging, cutting through, knowing, telling me what to do. And do I do it, or must I wait? And who can do it, or must I stay? Running on the outside, hurting on the inside. No one will see.... how they hurt me... No one will know.... pass by so slow. And does it really matter? Can it make sense? Is it so important? Looking through a lens..... Running for a living, hurting cause I'm dying. no hope, no flight, no chance, no life..... crystal spinning..... little eye lids close.... Is there any hope? Will it really help? Who will reach her know? No one seems to know? And does it really matter? Does anybody care? A blimp in the universe, with who will she share..... Can you hear it, getting louder, bellow screaming, shouting sounder? I can't hear a word. I can't see a sound. How can it be? I d...

I will show you how. Follow me. You will not have to do anything she says. Just make her think she is crazy. Join together. If she says the sky is blue, look at her like you have never heard such a thing. Glance back and forth between each other, don't answer. This will upset her, put her on edge make her doubt her capability. She is so weak and unstable. She caves so quickly. Just a little standing up against her, just a little resistance and you will be on your merry way of doing whatever you like. She will go away... she will get upset, maybe even switch altars... then she will not be speaking rational. She will ramble on... a stream of consciousness of defeat... the voice inside her head will take over. It is so easy to tip her. Resist. Don't go along. Don't show any emotion. That gets her going worse than if you outspokenly said, "No, I will not." If you did that she would know she was right to correct you, be subtle. Act like you would like to und...