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.
I spent the majority of my life trying to run away from my problems thinking that some change of scenery would change what was wrong in my life. And yet everywhere I went, there I was. Why it never occurred to me that I was the common denominator through all of it will always haunt my intelligence.
You can’t run away from yourself, stupid! And your body can’t even handle walking up three flights of stairs to your apartment. What makes you think you’ll be able to outrun anything at this point in your life?
So I finally stopped all that insanity and instead I started exercising with my demons. As much as I don’t want to admit it, they are a part of me. If I ever want to learn how to control my bipolar disorder, I have to accept and understand the darkness that comes with it. I just have to allow myself to feel. But when your emotions are so intense that they seem to swallow you whole, it’s hard to remember that they’re only temporary. The light will always return. No actually, it never leaves. It just travels along my spectrum of extremes waiting for its chance to shine.
I just need to express my gratitude for those random people who cross your path and remind you that we are all connected and no one should ever feel alone in their struggles. It’s so rare and refreshing when you find evidence of prior travelers on the path you’re stumbling along.
We need to stop considering mental illnesses as negative aspects to who we are. God designed each one of us as perfect for His plans and purpose. We should embrace it as one of the qualities that makes us unique and special and beautiful in God’s eyes. That just gave me a thought… maybe we should just start suggesting to kids these days that “crazy” is the new “cool.”
Okay, I’m getting sidetracked here. My whole reason for this post is to share my appreciation for a fellow blogger Revenge of Eve. This poetry spoke to me like it was written specifically for that purpose, for me. Be amazed….
via I Get It
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.