10/22/2023
(EMDR Session)
I was found in a dumpster in the back of a shitty McDonalds on Beach
My real mother didn’t want me
My skin was stained from the garbage
My legs are shaking, trembling beyond control
I can’t place the patterns or rhythm
The intensity fluctuates
There’s rocking motions up and down
Then one thigh jumps up
The other follows
They open and close like wings on a butterfly
The source of this is deep
Vibrating my upper body
When she prompts me to speak, my voice breaks through the convulsions
It’s then when I notice my breathing is impacted
I can’t find the emotion
I don’t think is panic
This feels different but also familiar
The ball stops
We’re going to tap now
I begin my attempts at connecting with my thighs
The shaking is erratic
My thighs come up to meet my hands before my hands can come down
My face grows numb
I feel it in my cheeks a lot
They’re dead
My legs give in
They feel tired
Very heavy and tired
No emotion, just energy
10/19/2023
People often ask, "What would you have told your younger self? What would you say?"
I don't think there is anything I could of told Her
There isn't anything I could say
I'm not sure if even showing Her who I am could help
This version of me can see things are different
But this version of me also understands that it doesn't diminish the reality of having to live through what She did
I wouldn't want to invalidate that
I suppose that I would just join Her
I'd stop running for a moment to sit with Her
Not to say anything
Not to teach or demonstrate something
I'd witness the suffering of Her experience
And for someone as lonely as She…
It might just be enough…
-.-
Versions of Her sit in front of me
Which version in my timeline is needed in response?
It isn’t really a decision
I'm becoming aware of the ways She enters
Without Her, there is no me
Without Her, I cannot meet others
-.-
The discomfort was rising
Insecurities wrapped up in anger
I couldn't formulate a thought
Not even an emotion
I was distant
Not because I wanted to be
Nor of their doing
But yet, there was a disconnect
I felt pulled from the circle
I struggled pulling myself back
Scanning my mind for the thoughts and emotions
Those that would pull me back into their worlds
And maybe that's just it
I cannot speak to something I've never lived
No matter how common
I couldn't fake it
10/17/2023
I'm mourning the loss of versions of myself
Looking at the memories engraved on the tombstone sparks the cycle of despair
Grieving the belief I ever held these memories as memories of being loved
10/13/2023
The echo never seems far behind
Most days I can feel it's pulse
The shadow mirrors my every move
The darkness is me
Some days it enters me
10/11/2023
I increase the pace
Until the pounding in my chest makes sense
Hoping the endorphins drown out the noise
I want to be louder
I need to be
I find the numbness
I recognize it as it enters through my feet
There isn't relief here
But there's gratitude as I gasp for air
For someone with so much experience with drowning
You'd think I'd learn to swim...
10/8/2023
I imagine She sits across from me
Her eyes are scanning my face
She's looking for my decrement
I look to the floor
She fills the room with Her uneasiness
With insecurities and doubt
"I'm stuck", I tell Her
I'm trying to make the best choice
I'm hoping I do
And I'm now more aware of how it impacts Her
The pressure is too much
I can only imagine Her hands
This is the only clear image ever
They're containing themselves
And I think, "This is wrong"
But in this moment I do not trust Her hands to be safe in mine
And I don't think She does either
We don't reach for one another
We sit in silence
In the stuckness
Both relying on me to keep us safe
I'm lost in Her hands when she speaks
"You're going to leave me for him?"
It's a question
But also a statement
It's history
I notice the importance of the question and my inability to have a clear response
I feel it coming
The rage begins to rise
It begins to set me on fire
It spreads when I think...
"Is this flame meant for me, for us?"
I'm not safe
I'm not clear
Yet I'm the best chance
I'm the only option
I reach for her
Unsure of my ability to listen
To find courage
To learn
10/8/2023
The tension roams my body
It lingers at my chest and in my throat
I open my chest
My attempts cause my body to tremble
No air comes in
My throat is so tight I can't swallow
The tightness will sever my tongue right off
His return has drained me
My body is difficult to pull along
All the aches I've learned to move with are suddenly in the forefront
Too much in my awareness
I wonder if I haven't progressed as much as I think I have
I've worked so hard and yet I'm pulled back so quickly
A couple words, few syllables
Root me back to a place I fought to get back up from
I'm exhausted wondering if I'll have to fight my way out this forest forever
Why do I allow him such power?
Logically I can argue
I can observe these thoughts
But the emotion, that's where I'm fucked
10/5/2023
She filled the room with facts
Facts about her life
She hesitates to acknowledge the suffering laced in these details
I hold it
I ask for more
She vibrates with fear
The energy reaches me with such a force it tears down locked doors
The intensity rushes in and awakens a familiar fear
It's reflected in her eyes... in her tears
It's communicated through her body
I remember
The world is a scary place from there
I recognize it and pull for more
Attempting to hold the weight of the fear with her
Giving her whatever ounce of stability I can pull from
The weight of the boulder digs into my spine
I pull for the fight
Having her lean the weight on me
This is how you heal
You get two good breaths
And you go back in to work
10/3/2023
(Dream)
Cutting him fruit. Serve it with tajin
I ingest warmth as I watch his satisfaction
The lights turn off and turn back on
The lights are still a warm hue
But the feel is different
There is a smell I can’t describe
He’s gone.
Everyone is
The air feels damp
I notice I’m tied up
I look up and the room is different
I’m not alone
I see 4 people on a wood plank
Side by side
I hear a cranking sound
The plank lifts
I hear her scream and watch her tremble
As it lifts I see they’re being pulled by a metal bar through their septums
This and their ankles raises them
It doesn’t hold. Obviously, I knew this
It rips through one of their noses and it all falls
The metal bar snaps through one of their heads
Making them unrecognizable
The other vomits all over the others
Her nose is ripped off too
I’m calm as I watch
I feel no cold, no heat
Even knowing that I’m next
I feel a presence behind me
I awake
I manage to jot this dream down before I
return for more.
This is the only one I can hold onto today. I ruminate about it.
The sadistic nature of my dreams always shocks me.
While awake I struggle keeping the shadows at bay but unconscious, they feast on my mind...
Ruminating on them always brings great discomfort. My mind quickly moves to repress the images, narratives, emotions...
I fight to keep this one.
The emotion is the most disturbing part. This is what sticks out.
The warmth I initially feel is brief. It quickly disappears. It almost feels like that’s the dream and what follows is the reality.
When I’m transported into the new room there is no fear in my body. I’m watching and observing every detail like it’s a movie. Hollywood props. I don’t like scary movies when I’m conscious but in this reality I’m numb to it.
I know I’m next and there is acceptance about it. I’m clearly trapped. Tied up and I have no other choice but I’ve accepting the circumstances.
I’m fixated on the pain. Almost eager about it. Eager to feel something. Even if it’s pain. Maybe it’s the only feeling I deserve.
The presence behind me is hard to describe. It’s something in the air. Absolute danger fills every particle in that space and overwhelms me.
All day I feel this sort of distance from myself and my life. Like I’m not quiet awake and it takes a lot more energy to, show up. To process things. Today, it’s my default.
I notice tension in my jaw at my desk.
I stand up and pace around. Trying to move this tension around my body. I use my right hand to grab my jaw to massage it.
I can smell him. My brain pulls it forward.
First, backwards... then it plays the tape.
I’m up against the wall with no where to go.
He’s gripping my face so hard my teeth begin to slice into my cheeks. My mouth fills with iron.
My stomach aches. My chest is getting tight.
I take a deep breath.
I can feel the heat off his breath. It’s making my face hot. I’m crying and pleading to be forgiven for existing. He pulls my head back by my hair. I’m locked into his eyes and I can’t find any life in them. I accept it- Death.
He presses the metal against the side of my head. The thought enters my head as a wish. I stop fighting and hope he keeps going. He’s angry there’s no fight. The metal spits the skin on my head and I fall to the floor.
He thinks I’m pretending but I can’t move. I have no force. No desire. I can smell the rage off of him. His skin reeks.
The scent changes. It’s that smell from the dream. A smell I imagine only prey can identify. A smell you only know until you’ve smelt it. His pores communicate what I am and what I am to become.
He’s heavy. So incredibly heavy. His weight alone bursts blood vessels all over my body. The pain is intolerable but I don’t move. He whispers I’m trash and his. I don’t argue. I agree.
Then there’s this switch. A switch I think he seeks to find. He wants the fight.
Suddenly he isn’t so heavy. Suddenly I’m not so heavy. I fight to keep just one more piece of myself. In the end, possibly only making it worse for myself and loosing it anyways. The rage can’t be stopped. I can’t be soothed.
He’s going to have to rip me apart... and he does. He always did.
I oscillate between acceptance over something I will not stand a chance at winning but also can’t help but stay in.
The clock on the wall ticks. My mouth fills with saliva that tastes like metal. The clock tells me it’s time. The clock tells me it’s coming. The clock also reminds me to find the rhythm…
9/29/2023
“It’s a struggle, and it always will be. Sometimes the darkness comes on, as though I’m falling into a pit. I have to look at the darkness, and, in an act of pure will, try to put a space of objectivity between me and it. To say, “Okay, there it is. It’s haunting me”. It doesn’t cure me, but it does allow me to function and, inevitability, work out of the horror, knowing that yes, the horror will come again, and know that yes, I can survive it”. -MMV
The oxygen in the room suddenly was out of reach
I found myself in a vacuumed sealed room
His voice became clear and slow
The presence of others became distant
I wanted to run
But my feet were rooted to the ground
My face felt hot
Like a spot light had been turned on above me
He spoke
He put words to something I never could
I worried others would smell me
See that I too, in fact, spoke this language
I felt the rumble
Coming from a place long silenced
The monster that lives in me has been awoken
Fear moved through my skin
It ached
I desired to rip it off
Start fresh, start clean
I might as well been standing there naked
Then I could make sense of the noise
Make sense of the current moving through me
Had I known the earth would come up from beneath me…
I wouldn’t have come
I can speak to darkness
To Her mess
But this, there are no words
It’s a language
One I didn’t realize I spoke until that very moment
9/26/2023
Adagio for strings fills the room
I place my hands over my chest
Trying to contain the pace
By the end, I’m trembling
When nightmares haunt you relentlessly
You never think you’re unfamiliar with the timeline
I opened Pandora’s box
No where near prepared for what’d begin seeping out
The more I’m confronted with
The more I feel out of my depth
I hold the clips as they flash through my mind
Stretching them further and further
Finding words, art, messages, anything
That may have survived the fires of my rage
I’m both relieved and disappointed at how little is left
The intensity of the words scare me
But the lack of words is more terrifying
Remembering how so much was left unsaid, unexpressed…
9/20/2023
Tonight’s a waxing crescent moon
I take a deep breath
Filling my lungs with poison
I walk into his house
My nostrils fill with nostalgia
Smells like him
Like well-read books
Worn out shelves of movies
I feel him lighten up as his eyes find my face
Again, I’m hit with the realization I misinterpreted my importance
His smile is so big, I can’t help but smile back
He looks much better than the last time I saw him
He asks about my life
He grins at the ceiling as I describe my home
“I’m so proud of you. Man, I’m. so. Proud”
His face begins to blur
I thank him
But he doesn’t let me dismiss it
“You beat the standard”
He reminds me of where statistics placed my limits
“I don’t mean this in a bad way. You have every right to be proud of yourself”
I can’t help but shed a few tears
I don’t know a life without him in it
He has no relation to me
No blood ties us together
In fact, he comes from a different world
He’s known for his grumpiness
His rigidness
He’s lived so much of his life alone
Strict, stoic, particular
But I could always feel his kindness
We understood each other’s need for silence
He allowed me to enter his life on my terms
Filling my memories with moments of respite
Giving me access to one of my escapes, water
He states, “I hope you think of the good things”
But there’s only good things…
Trips to bars at noon for the best burgers
Corn on the cobb on a barbecue after a swim
Excitement over picking a movie off his museum of movies
He doesn’t call me family
Family has left him with wounds lasting 88 years
He’s my family though
He’s my grandpa
See, I’ve been lucky to have three grandfathers
Losing my paternal grandfather threw a bomb into my life
Shifting the foundation so profoundly I had to rebuild
Maybe my grandfather knew I needed more time
Maybe he knew he needed family
Whatever the reason, I know it was destiny
Meant to be just as it was and has been
He’s a grouch so he’d never show it
But he asks about me
He worries
Watches over me
Ready to step in if needed
He signs every card, “your friend, xxx“
Never missing an opportunity to hand me my $2 bill
I have an envelope full of these bills
His gift from Japan hasn’t moved an inch
Faded from the sun now, I know it’s his $2 bill
“I’m lucky to know someone who’s smart. As smart as you”
“You might not think you’re a big deal but it is a very big deal”
He tells me he hopes he’s around to see what I’m about to do next
I restrain myself from leaping onto his body
We go back to familiar humor and sarcasm
He’s never spoken like this
I wasn’t ready for it
I was ready for the grumpy
I realize, I must prepare for what is to come
The loss of my two abuelos…
The clock ticks louder
I’m not ready to lose another grandpa
That’s the big deal
9/19/2023
(EMDR Session)
It’s been three days
I hear myself rate the memory as a 0
Part of me believes it
But there’s a quieter, more sinister part that knows that’s not true
I hope she doesn’t see this part
But she does
The ball moves back and forth
I notice, irritability
She’ll see, there’s nothing
I notice tingling in my chest
The ball goes back and forth
There’s this sharp pinch on my collarbone and it spreads
Like water, it moves around my skin
It’s uncomfortable
Feels like hitting your funny bone but the intensity doesn’t die out
And it’s on every inch of skin
The ball goes back and forth
She prompts me and I follow guidance
The sensation is intolerable
It’s moving everywhere
It’s like my skin isn’t part of me and I need to detach from it
I need to peel it off
I find myself like a stone
The current tortures me as my fear becomes muffled
There is a hole in my chest
I can’t move my head to see
But I can’t feel anything
It’s like something took a chunk of my chest out
I attempt to move my arms and legs but it’s so heavy
My face feels rigid
I try to move my jaw and forehead
I’m disconnected
Offline
I’m prompted
My voice is hard to find
Irritation finds me again as I struggle to say, “it’s the same”
The ball goes back and forth
She asks me to speak
I have nothing to say
Suddenly my jaw is trembling
The air is hard to reach for
The tears soak my face
The ball goes back and forth
The current moves over every pore intensifying with every attempt to breathe
My hands and legs began shaking uncontrollability
The noise begins to increase in volume
I’m bracing for impact
I boil over and in between gasps I find the word
“RUN”
Like a light switch, I’m off again
I don’t know how
But I’m heavy
My breathing feels so slow
My limbs are asleep
The ball goes back and forth
The ball blurs out
It’s a nicer feeling
I feel sleepy
She won’t let me stay here
“Find Her”
“Take Her hand and run”
This place is limiting but my skin isn’t crawling away from me
The vibrating stops here
But I try
I’m on the sidewalk
Staring at the house, at the driveway
I can hear Her
I take steps towards the drive way
I feel She grips my hand
I close my eyes
Her hand intensifies the voices
I can’t move
The ball moves back and forth
I try
My legs won’t move
Her hand is like a weight
I feel the scream start from a place that’s never ending
“I can’t!”
Panic sets in
The ball stops
I can’t focus on the prompts
The voices are too loud
I’m so heavy but my body is trembling
I can’t pry my jaw open
She keeps trying
Please don’t leave me here…
I’m overwhelmed with the desire to die
She helps me
Takes the shovel and begins scoping loads of this stuff into the vault
Eventually, I pick one up
I’m shoveling the shit
We return Home
The stalls muffle the noise
The smell of the dirt and horse hair brings me back
I double check the vault
I get up and feel grateful for the distance
I fill my glass and stay offline
9/15/2023
Grief
I’m learning to take a peek at what I’ve buried long ago. Opening a time capsule. I’ve found intensity.
I resisted the reality. I couldn’t speak the truth so creating a different story was easier. Made losing my voice easier.
As I grieve the life I’ve had. All the emotions overtake me. I’m not safe from fear or shame. There is less resistance now.
I don’t seek retribution or revenge. I ache for Her.
I grieve for Her.
I explore what I might need.
I want to put it down. I want my voice back. I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t.
These facts about my life are ugly.
None of us are perfect or good all the time. I’ve struggled with hating my baggage and mistakes. It’s not my responsibility to shield others from their mistakes. I’ve had to face my own. Who you were or are in my life is just a split second on an eternal timeline. Whether you are the good or bad guy in my story. It’s just fact. You can’t argue actions and behaviors but you can argue their meaning. Try to justify them.
This is my lived expereince of you in that moment and time. I’ve felt so crazy all my life. Confused about how I felt because I couldn’t be so messed up. I must have created it from thin air. I’m messy because my life was hard. Very hard… Crazy helped me survive it.
She saved my life.
9/15/2023
I feel odd in my own body lately
This started recently but not sure exactly when
Maybe in the last month or so
I image this feeling is what babies' feel when they first notice their hands and feet
Noticing you have legs and awkwardly trying to learn to use them
I feel odd because it feels different
It's not that it's not authentic
It's odd that it is
I noticed the difference when I'm alone
But I'm more aware of it in interactions
I think maybe from the outside it looks like being "bubbly"
I'm definitely still hidden in many ways
I generally don't like people
I prefer interactions with a selected few
Lately, it just seems less draining
Maybe that's not a good description
People can still be very draining
I guess I have a better understanding of my objective in the interactions
Sounds like manipulation
Probably is honestly
But I know I rather not be there or have the conversation
I just got good at finding something rewarding about it
I really don't know what this is yet
I've always been fine talking to people
I can put on a front and engage in mindless small talk that slowly drains me
I know how to make others feel seen, heard
Get them to keep talking about themselves so they don't ask me any questions
I found ways to make people think they know me
Feel like they do without ever really knowing much
That all still seems the same
Something just FEELS different