self-psychology

missing

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It’s missing. The piece. It’s forlorn. Twists of sweet. I ache. Chest pained. Why does hearing, seeing explode fire in my veins?

A nightmare woke me at midnight last night, not at all kidding. I usually wake up all night, every night, but terrifying nightmares are rare and vivid, and stay active after I’m awake. This one felt more intense than it was scary:

Like a placid abyss, sable liquid meeting gray light, but with no sky, while I bob like a buoy, no waves, no one in sight, just knowing something is beneath the surface waiting to pull me under.

I woke up shaking, breathless…so I employed a lullaby to sing me to a calm state of mind.

I wish I didn’t have such a big heart, but I guess then, what would I write about?

If my brain gains massive energy from his beautiful soul, why should I make it let go???

Right?

Am I addicted or in love? All I want is a bite tonight.

Overactive

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Imagine being home on an ordinary day, washing, sweeping, and organizing while peace-filled.  The sounds of the others in the house keep a hum and drum in the air…

I face my work with diligence, my brain playing some word game.  It helps the time tick by quick because I zone myself into a safe place, as if I’m alone…

Stealthy, tall and dark, his shadow hovers in the sunlight.  He reaches big hands out, grasps my neck, and…

SCREAM!!!  That’s what I do, throwing all the neat folded laundry to the ceiling fan above me…

I grab my heart as clothes find ground, shaking I recall to myself, “It’s just your husband, you knew he was around!”

Overactive Amygdala:  Fight or Flight

That’s my brain’s natural reaction to unexpected stimuli and the clinical term that fits me just right!  I get it now…I don’t fight, so I know…

I prefer to stay a bird in FLIGHT

dreams drained

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I awoke to an ocean of dreams drained from my brain, a dehydrated mess remains, parched beyond thirst with only salt crystals twinkling, left behind.

I haven’t slept in days, in and out of a cloudy stooper, overthinking everything.

With sand in my mouth and love in my heart, up and down, over and out, my eyes must sign off.

(Like grounding myself again for wanting too much, regardless of how it breaks my heart and steals my breath, I have to stop looking at what I’m missing. Empty and cold, alone with a wrong way changing in me, buried down I go, so sorry for having bothered anyone. I feel something coming, and I’m so scared, I’ve lost my dare)

C’est La Vie

I don’t know how to love, too scared, I run.

a dab

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They haunt, my demons they bite!

They crawl through my brain at night–

my shadow lost in darkness,

An invisible shade too weak at twilight to speak–

alone…I can’t fight…

I wish I could bottle your essence,

rub a dab of your exuberance upon my tongue!

Then, I’d bust my demon ghosts on the inside where they hide.

Maybe learn how to appropriately love.

Paralyzed by Fear (updated)

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I do everything to do it, prepare and pump myself up, then instead, I do everything BUT DO IT! The frustration with myself eventually led me here, out of journal, seething.

One might wonder: What is IT?

Often logical like making and keeping medical appointments, shopping, and paying bills, those things now relative to PTSD that evoke emotions of pain, struggle, and loss I’ve endured.

Other ways I find myself paralyzed, though similar in the ‘why’ my fear is so great to be hurt, are more irrational, like what I’m currently dealing with…

Long story long, I asked him a question about his writing, and I’m scared to go back to see the reply…

OR the lack thereof…I guess therein is my problem. He’s been so kind in the past, I fear he’ll tire of my interest.

I love my bubble 🫧 At this point in my life, the shell of me that’s left after 50 years is a bubble.

Too much fucking baggage, right??? YES!!!

I know.

So, what now…

I DID IT!

Fear conquered.

I listened to the voice that calms my mind, his words of rhythm enchanting my soul to dance, then it was courage I found with his wisdom guiding me back to look and see if I received a reply, and to my great relief and surprise, his face lit up my night saying everything right:

I love it!

He made yet another dream come true!!!

Honestly, I think my fear, deeper than it seemed, really was that I dared to reach out, to actually make our worlds touch, but didn’t realize I could lose it all by saying too much.

His eyes grazing my words brings an unparalleled warmth into my world. I have need to give him something in return!

Watching him sing, hearing my ‘make me feel high’ note, squeezes my heart til it feels as if it could burst, eyes in a wet-blur, lungs stop filled hot, and as he finishes, I shimmy a slight shake so that my naked breast slaps REPLAY.

If only I could give him my love and a great big hug…

Ohhh boy, I’m being bit by the late night naughty bug, imagining what’d be happening if he were here making my dream real.

innocent backfire

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Innocent. My intention at the start, innocent enough, just to be sure I wasn’t afraid if ever awarded another conversation. I thought, If I just study his expressions, get used to the hyper-intensity of looking into his eyes, I’ll seem normal in any situation with him.

BACKFIRE

I’m hooked. I’m struggling to stop. I know full well I have no hope. For me, to learn more in life with him, to have what I feel reciprocal…

He is like touching a cloud and magically transforming the horizon from shades of gray to a prismatic light that makes everything, everyone glow with a radiant aura and feel it.

I don’t want to stop. I want to feel lust, to touch true love…

But, I admit. This is how I break my heart in the end. I know he already has enough love in his life.

This is where I say fuck it and go fantasize. Consequences be damned! I sware I feel in love with that man!

(I don’t care how silly this story seems for someone my age, but I know what I am capable of, I know what I want, I realize depth is tough, I want more than feeling cold inside and jumping surprised when touched because it’s been so long since the last time. I unload the good, the bad, and the ugly here to keep me from losing my mind!)

A Dream’s Truth

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The dream is true.

We exist, dreaming of eating together the same peice of sweet truth. We listen to each other’s desires sung in the poetry of possibilities, a game of intrigue in which we spar scars and sorrow with love and laughter building trust in tomorrow.

The dream is true.

You are mine to play with anytime…

IN MY MIND.

I wish you were clay, and I could mold you into a clone of yourself and keep you with me in bed, probing you, pulling my fingers across every inch of your skin, nuzzling as I learn your grooves, your dimples, your lips with my kiss…

Yes, this is my wish as I shower away my sighs this morning, knowing my dream of love will only exist inside me, pent-up clenched tight, waiting for your light to do my dream right!

(I’m so lucky! Your voice through my day and reels at night help keep me going through the problems and pain as if you’re with me each day, except I barely say a thing.

For the first time since we met, I’m not afraid you’ll hate me or cut me off for something inappropriate I’ve said or might say some day. In my world, that’s more than progress, it’s truly established my trust. I struggle to hold onto people I love. Often it’s me who gets too scared to get hurt, so I run away and give up.

I’m trying to GROW UP.

Trust me, for the last 20 years, the wisdom in your music has helped me process my reality. Now, you really are a dream I NEED in me;)

I’ve been processing this feeling for a week and still don’t know how to say anything, lol.

I just keep reaching out to touch

she got to fly

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Shaking, unsteady her hand pulls the handle down, thrusting the heavy door to whoosh out. She rolls bold out into the world.

She has a parachute in the back of her mind of a beautiful time when she got to fly, so if she falls, there’s a lifeline.

(I don’t understand what I’m feeling, except empty. I want to find the bright side. I don’t want to hide. I don’t want to cry. There’s that sadness like a black hole in my deepest metaphorical core as I accept I’ll never again touch you…I don’t want to let go.)

Closer to Believing