Disconnected

Disconnected ...

I am looking
But I cannot see.
I am reaching out
But everything is beyond my grasp.
A series of sleepless nights.
Trying to connect myself together.
Made up of different images
Together with some of my ramblings.


Self Harm is something I’ve grown up with, in one form or another. Part of the problem is the shame and guilt that surrounds it. My scars are a permanent reminder. I'm trying to view them more positively - that they show that I’ve survived some very rough times.
I'm not there yet - but I don't want to hide anymore


Deep inside the heart is a place where my child
finds the love she never trusted to be real.
Within my heart my child is loved.
Within my heart my child is healed.
As the child is healed, so, also, is my heart.

I
THE SECRETS GOT TOLD. DID YOU KNOW THAT? BIG PEOPLE KNOW OUTSIDE WHO CAN HELP US NOW. EVERYBODY KNOWS WHY WE GOT SO SAD. IT WAS A SAD THING.


This is how it sometimes feels to be inside my head. There are voices that hate me, voices that think I’m stupid and voices that want me to die. They prey on my insecurities, my fears. It can feel like my head is an open invitation cocktail party - there's so much going on in there. Even my own thoughts seem to run at different speeds, different levels ... so that there's so much inside at the same time. It's hard to describe, to explain what it feels like. I just want the whole world to stop so that I could get off.


So much shame
Feeling insane
Disturbed
Nothing but a life drain
A sad damaged faulty brain.

Angel without wings that never learned to fly.
Is it my destiny to die?
I sit waiting for the air around me to quiet.
Questioning my existence,
My thoughts run in the distance.

They wonder, but never ask.
Don’t look behind my mask.
Defective, worthless.
Most days I wish I wasn’t born.
Feeling alone in a storm.

Intrusive, heinous mind suffer.
Vivid and impure, it can’t get any tougher.
Torture, and denial.
I’m garbage, nothing but a disgrace.
I want to fly away to another place.

Nobody knows what I’m holding back
It will be a surprise, a plan of attack.
No surrender, only resistance.
Even in death I don’t want to feel the sun upon my face,
So bury my body in a shady place.



To cut a long story short I stopped to think and broke down.