Fuck the filter when it’s all the truth and it always has been. What changes is the voice of a storyteller over time. Be careful though. Prying minds might unleash a vault of emotions that isn’t safe for anyone to unlock.
Goodbye, old friend
I’m moving on
This is harder than I thought it’d be
You’ve always been there to lift me up
The only constant I’ve had in my life
At least for the past ten years that is
You introduced me to a world I would’ve never known
So completely outside my comfort zone
You gave me an endless supply of “friends”
And taught me some things I needed to know
The hard way, of course… in order to grow
Without you, I never would’ve found my voice
I’d still be a doormat, afraid to stand on my choice
I must’ve been so naive when we met
They descended upon me like prey, I bet
I was forced to learn a whole new kind of language
And taught to stay on point and aware of my things
Survival mode, everyone out for themselves
Always watch your back, because nobody else will
We’ve had our fun, don’t get me wrong
The breakfast delivery route is sadly long gone
I’ve been putting you first for the longest time
But the stakes are too high for me at this point
So I’m walking away
Not looking back
Scared as hell
But the time has come
I’ll miss you, old friend
Goodbye forever… and ever.
Being one of the vast number of people who suffer from a mental illness, I’ve learned the importance of protecting yourself from gaslighting and recognizing it when it’s happening to you.
According to Wikipedia, gaslighting is a form of manipulation that tries to create doubt in an individual or group in hopes to make them question their own memory, perception, and sanity. Using persistent denial, misdirection, contradiction, and lying, it attempts to break the victim down and delegitimize their beliefs. Instances may range from the denial by an abuser that previous abusive incidents ever occurred up to the staging of bizarre events by the abuser with the intention of disorienting the victim. The term originated from the 1938 Patrick Hamilton play Gas Light and its 1940 and 1944 film adaptations. The term is now being used in clinical and research literature as well as in political commentary.
It’s so crucial for those with mental illnesses to be aware of this form of abuse because we are perfect targets for it. I mean, think about it… we already feel crazy without anyone’s help so it’s that much easier for someone to magnify that thought. We must remain vigilant in order to prevent falling into this type of abuse. Sadly, it’s very easy to become prey to the manipulation used in this kind of abusive relationship. It’s all about tearing someone down to gain complete control of them.
Personally, I’d rather be decked in the face than experience the psychological abuse I’ve endured. Luckily, I made it out in one piece and survived the pain. I just want to warn my fellow “crazy’s” about something I’ve been through and hopefully, save someone from being put through the abuse of a toxic relationship. If you can relate to anything in this post, get out and run… run far, far far away! When I became a target for this horrible psychological game, I had never heard of gaslighting or knew anything about it. For me, I don’t think it would’ve mattered anyway. The truth of it is that you only fall victim to what you allow. So maybe, just maybe, I might be able to enlighten someone to beware of relationships that seem to fit the gaslighting description. Or maybe, just maybe, someone will have faith in themself and their mind enough to trust their truth and stand strong against anyone who tries to make them think differently.
Hope is what happens when you first see a light,
Just a distant, small star in the darkest of night.
Hope is what happens with the first buds of spring,
When dawn touches the sky or a bird spreads its wings.
Hope is what happens when a wound starts to heal,
Whether skin deep or soul deep, you begin to feel real.
Hope is what happens when you’re poor but not broken.
There’s a goldmine of dreams still yet to be awakened.
Hope is what happens when someone is kind,
A feeling not lost, just misplaced in your mind.
Hope is what happens when war turns to peace,
After everyone prayed that the fighting would cease.
Hope is what happens with the smell of fresh rain,
When your long drought of dreams is renewed yet again.
Hope is what happens when clouds finally clear.
Troubled thunder falls silent, courageous whispers you hear.
Hope is what happens when fresh bread is baking,
And what hungers your heart will someday stop aching.
Hope is what happens when kindling ignites.
You rediscover your passion that burns day and night.
Hope is what happens when the pain eases a bit,
And deep down inside, you find your true grit.
Hope is what happens as long as we breathe,
For although it takes time, the sorrow will leave.
Hope is what happens long after the pain…
Hope is what happens, again and again…
~ Catherine DeVrye
Mother’s Day is probably one of the most difficult days of the year for me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to spend a moment in time with my mom today. Losing her was like losing my whole sense of self. Looking at each other was like looking into a two-way mirror.
Without trying, my mom raised a daughter who shares most of her best and worst qualities. I give her all the credit for my ability to love unconditionally without boundaries or limits. She instilled most of the values I will always live by such as honesty and compassion for others.
I will forever hold dear to my heart the way we continually switched off as the caregiver throughout the years. On the other hand, I definitely got my “crazy” from my mom. You can only imagine some of the epic blowouts we had when our “crazy’s” would collide.
As I get older, the questions I wish I could ask her continues to grow. I guess that’s one of the worst parts of losing your mom at such a young age. She was only 54 years old when she passed away but they say only the good die young, right? It’s what I choose to believe. Just like I choose to believe she’s always looking down and protecting me as one of my guardian angels.
The one thing I miss the most right now is some good old country cruisin’. I would love to climb into a dusty old pick-up with the windows rolled down and a spot for my bare feet on the dash. I remember back when I was younger and the country boys were all around. I’d snatch one up and just drive. The gravel roads would twist and turn and lead to nowhere. At least, I never made it anywhere but farther from civilization. By nightfall, I’d be completely lost in the country somewhere and have no clue how to get back home. That’s why I love the country boys. I could just drive with no destination or place to go and they’d just guide me back to town when the sun was going down. No matter what, we always made it home by dark. I miss those days.