Dark Trying to Take Over

The Dark tremours it’s way into the silky bones you wear
the fabric wrapping like an undesirable gift

around your shape.

Brush strokes of black
spread,
encasing the light of a beautiful that is. 

The Good trapped underneath a lining of
consuming Evil
a hollow of belief made for the veins that hum the untruth.

You are not the dark, you are not the dark,

you are the beautiful, billion watted soul of light. 

 

I got to the Top..and then

Quality.
I had a lot of friends. I really did. I was so likable.
And I ran so hard with it until I reached a hill and in order to get to the top to see the beauty from there, I chose to discontinue all my relationships. I was okay in doing so, because I was determined. I had to lighten myself.
And not by dropping pounds.

I reached the top but it turned out the weather up there was foggy dust. Dark. and the ability to see much of anything besides slivers and speckles of light far off was truly difficult.

I’m still standing on it. I’m not running down to pick up my old friends. I’m going to stand here, nice and strong like a big oak tree and I’m going to do what I can to clear the skies.
It tooks months to reach here afterall,
and I’m determined to make what I believe in,
come out of the dark.

Writings of My Dark Room

Last week I went to a very dark place.

For four days I stayed inside those walls.
I was aware of all the things I should do, that I needed to do in order to be better. But I didn’t care and I became numb to things and I went out for hours at a time drinking and wandering and not even feeling alone..but.. helpless.It’s an odd idea. To have such a detailed awareness of what I need to do, and then to actually feel unable. To feel the in ability and to know that I’m making it up. That it’s all me.That I’m the one making the problem, enlarging the issue. Im the one being ridiculous and child-like and yet… I feel too weak to change it.
I began to blame every little difficult thing-like the way Zeeks bag wouldn’t zip up on the first try, or tripping over wires, if Zeek cried for more than two minutes- I blamed that on the fact that it was because I was here in Thailand. I began to get angry and I didn’t even realise it was happening.

I had felt that I would be able to get on track and get involved and do more things with Zeek outside of the home. I really believed I would.
And then. It kept on not happening. I kept telling myself I was happy working on my videos and pictures and that if I could just get those done I would feel better.
But I just got in deeper. So deep that before I knew it, I was shutting down and walking with this cement structure around myself, ignoring Morgan and doing the minimal with Zeek.
Light could not enter my space. And I don’t think I even wanted it too. For the first time in my entire life, I actually felt incapable of fixing anything. Incapable of breaking the cube, of being happy. I felt life slide from my finger tips and my lack of care became what I breathed everywhere I went. I stopped eating and using drink, I both mentally and emotionally exhausted myself.
I knew I needed to be better and I knew Morgan and Zeek didn’t deserve to be treated the way I was treating them. I knew I was failing and I just got more angry at myself. I was miserable. I didn’t even feel alone. There was a layer of numbness to everything else I felt. I was unable to be the person I wanted. I hated that I had created this room and the person I was being inside of it.
I hated it, yet I felt I could not escape it..

In the meantime I of course stopped all contact with my family and my mother worried and wanted to talk but I felt like doing nothing of the sort and I stopped emailing the few people I was because silly this, the wait time for responses had me going wild.

I removed myself from any light because I felt all it did was make the issue less raw and I needed it to be raw in order for me to come to this point.

You would think after five years of living abroad I would have accepted being away from Canada but it isn’t the case. I guess that’s partly where all the phases and stages come in.

I have reaccepted my stay here and I have reevaluated my time and I’m kind of ready to not sulk here anymore. I’m okay.

Because it got me to a desperate make believe,four walled room where enough dizzying circles would have resulted in me being put on a plane without my son and flown to my home country where counselling sessions would have been forced into my brain space.

Sometimes I guess, we need refreshing. Sometimes we need to defrag our computers, delete various people on Facebook we don’t even know anymore and dye our hair. Sometimes we need to make big changes in order for us to continue- or even to be – happy.

Maybe It Wasn’t Such a Good/Bad Thing

Maybe my trip to Canada was the best and worst thing.
I came back and I am no longer content. I experienced life the way that I prefer, the way that I realized I had forgotton existed. I lived with people I swung on swings with, I ate timbits and walked by the bay and then I came back and figured out not that I had none of that here, but that I needed it. So now I am unhappy and trying to build and create and make it what I can because I am capable. But it is so very difficult when you are working with darkness inside your head and a numbness in your heart. When the tools you have aren’t equipped for this understanding.
That maybe somewhere along the way, I jumped in too fast.

I am usually wonderful at convincing myself that I am where I want to be but suddenly that has become very difficult to do.
Canada has made me not as comfortable here and if I didn’t know the other side,couldn’t I just continue living without knowing?
And then I’d be missing out on a fun. So am I glad for this hit on the chin? Am I glad for the trip that turned my life in a direction I haven’t discovered yet?
I have yet to figure it out and when I do, I’ll let you know.