Watch Me

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Watch me stumble

Watch me fall

Watch me crumble

I have failed numerous times

I try to reconnect all the pieces

So the image can be picture perfect

How many more time will I fail?

Watch me fake that smile

and laugh that laugh

Sit in my corner

And prepare my slumber

When will I NOT fail?

You just watch me…

Observe ME

Collecting my broken pieces

Pick myself up no matter how many times I stumble and fall

Throw away that fake smile and release my lips and teeth

So the world can see my happy state

Observe me

As I am finally

Accepting

Loving

and Being ME

The Twelfth Piece: School

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As long as I can remember I was never good at making friends or being able to socially connect with others. I didn’t know how to start a conversation without concluding with a pregnant pause or without panicking to the point where my palms would be drenched in sweat. I never wanted anyone to get to know me, but I didn’t want it to make it obvious that there was something wrong with me, so I tried to find a middle ground.

Elementary was easy. Kids. Kids just talk and make friends, right? Well, I don’t remember making much friends. None, actually. I was moved to three different elementary schools in total.

The memories of my first elementary school are vivid. The only memory that really stands out is when my mother decided to celebrate my birthday during lunch time. My face was red with embarrassment. I wondered why she sent me to school in a red puffy dress. I wasn’t embarrassed because of the cake, the balloons, or even the Happy Birthday songs. I was embarrassed because I didn’t have friends to celebrate it with. My mother brought cakes and cupcakes for a over a dozen kids and I didn’t talk to any of them. The rest of the day seemed eternal. I just wanted to leave. Get away.

My second elementary school was the same. I was only there for a year and pretty much acted as if I didn’t exist. I wouldn’t play with anyone or talk to them unless it was school related. For being almost invisible many things occurred in third grade. For one, I had my first french kiss from a boy my age. He was labeled as the trouble kid. He was always getting in trouble with the teachers and just didn’t care for the world. For some reason, I was attracted to that side of him. My memories of how we started that relationship are hazy. All I remember is the kisses and the day I last saw him. We moved shortly after. I was ready to press the reset button.

My third and last school for my elementary years was different. I started fourth grade the same as any other year. I didn’t really talk to anyone. I was getting good at becoming invisible (almost). Until one day, two girls approached me while I was sitting down at my table in the classroom. They said Hi. I looked up and stuttered the same word. That was the beginning of something I never had before; friendship. Before I met B and M, my days were gray. I didn’t have anything to look forward to in school. I just went because I had to. Being invisible was calming because I didn’t have to waste my energy in trying to be something that I was not. After meeting them, school seemed brighter and filled with colors. When I was with them it was as if all the abuse that was occurring at home was nonexistent; being with them made me forget and I genuinely wanted to get closer to them. They were pure in my eyes and I wanted to cherish that. Even though I still had a shield in front of me, I tried my best in our relationship. My demeanor completely changed for those two years of elementary school.

Until the next phase; middle school.

That’s when my storm truly unraveled.

Goodnight

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Look at the pale orange warmth of that sunset

Penetrating through the window

Covering the walls with its splashes of yellow and orange colors.

Let’s tuck you in

It’s time for bed

Let’s watch the dancing colors fade from the ceiling and the walls

Imagine the colors transforming into stars

Imagine that you will travel far…very far

Beyond the dark sky

You wil fly

Close you eyes

Say good bye to the sun’s colors

Welcome the dark blue

The shinning moon

And the millions of cities of lights

Welcome the good night.

My Happy Place

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These past few weeks has been chaotic. My emotions took a toll on me and I really didn’t know how to pick myself up again. My thoughts were in a rampage and my body was betraying me. I couldn’t find my happy place; I was stuck in a fog and I couldn’t find a way out.

A couple days ago, I forced myself to aid my mother in law out in the garden. The first hour or so was dreadful. My body felt heavy and my mind just kept repeating, “Go back to your room.” I didn’t want to do anything. After a while, I found myself feeling at ease and smiling to myself half of the time. The sun was immediately covered by dark gray clouds. Drizzles of cold rain poked my skin and I could feel my darkness fade. For some, this weather can be gloomy and eerie, but to me it was the complete opposite. I looked up and felt cold rain on my face and my chest tighten, but not the type of pressure where you just want to hideaway under your covers, instead it was the type where your light was ready to burst out from days of unwanted incarceration.

I stood there and let the rain fall. I stood there and heard my son’s laughter. I stood there and watched my mother in law rushing to the door trying to avoid the rain. I stood there and closed my eyes and breathed.

I inhaled as much air as I could and exhaled. I repeated the procedure a couple more times.

I opened my eyes and saw my son in joy.

What a beautiful smile I thought to myself.

I walked towards him and picked him up and kissed him. I know I haven’t held him or kissed him since my episode began.

I held him close and did the same when my daughter arrived from school shortly after.

I get lost within my depression. My sight, emotions, and thoughts become thick like a fog and prevents visibility…almost all visibility. There is always a hidden escape from all the chaos. I just have to find my way to it.

I found it this time. It took me a while, but I found it.

Once again, I found my happy place.

The Eleventh Piece Self Harm Part Two (Trigger Warning)

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My mother rarely worried about me, she didn’t have a reason to. I always portrayed as the ‘good girl’ when I was with her, mainly, because her hands were already full with my brothers’ rebellious phase and her two jobs. Truthfully, she didn’t have the energy for anyone else; I don’t blame her. After my father was deported, she was now a single mother raising four children; it wasn’t easy.

The days that followed after my mother found out about my cutting were normal. She didn’t check on me. She didn’t worry. Yes, she asked questions, but that was about it. My guilt belittled my own existence and compassion understood her situation. The blade was my only escape, so I continued to slash away; I expanded my museum on my arm all the way down to my thigh. Every time I closed myself in the bathroom I would make some sort of incision; it didn’t matter if it was deep enough that the blood would pour out continuously or small enough for just a small drop to escape. The blade was my stimulus; I had to have it.

My cutting lasted for about another year.

I stopped when I turned 14 years old.

I was 14 years old when I met him.

I was 14 years old when my struggle and acceptance for love commenced.

The blade was my friend.

Love was my enemy.

Yet, I stopped unaware of the unknown that waited for me.

Depression

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These past couple of weeks has been like a roller coaster ride; like a dodgeball fight and I am the target, or a football match and I’m the single player versus a whole team of negative bitches.

When I wake up and think, “This is not good.” I know is the beginning of a bad day, but I have to wake up.

I am a mother.

I am a wife.

I have to camouflage my insanity with the face of a person who is sane, but that fort can hold for so long. When my facade breaks. I break. The world is against me and I cannot let my shield down, so I fight. I fight back by shutting everyone out…almost everyone.

Like I said,

I am a mother.

So, to my kids I put on my happy mask and hide my truth away. Innocence cannot be devoured by what dwells within me.

I can put on a smile.

I can laugh.

I can be happy when I am with them.

When I am alone, my darkness creeps in.

My thoughts constantly transfer me to a dimension where my existenve is futile and I am free.

STOP! I yell.

Stop that.

Stop the thoughts.

Stop trying to block my path.

Stop it.

Thus, I continue my day in a ongoing battlefield and by the end of the day, I am exhausted.

All that is left is destruction.

All that is left are open wounds.

All the is left is the everlasting fires of my disaster.

All that is left is the missing pieces of myself

Scattered somewhere out in the field; begging to be found.

I welcome the moon to put me at ease, but my enemies wash away my sleep.

My war continues into the night.

An endless battle.

An endless fight.

To My Anxiety

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I am panicking

I am barely breathing

My vision is blurry

My memory is hazy

You knocked on my door

And I allowed you in

My body is trembling

I am pacing back and forth

I am barely breathing

I have to keep myself together

I cannot stay like this forever

Breathe

I step back and close my eyes

I bestowed myself into Nothing

Hoping that something will

Help me find my balance.

I am in a trance

Breathe

I hear my breath.

I hear the distant helicopter

I hear the birds singing

I hear the cars passing

I hear the wind howling

Breathe

I open my eyes and exhale

I can do this

Breathe

I cannot let you into my life when you please

I will not longer allow that agonizing tease

Breathe

Not today dear friend

Not today.

Mockingbird

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That is a mockingbird

Who wants you to sing along

To it’s song.

A song that is carried by the wind

Makes you feel like you’re on a swing

High and might

Powerful and light

Light as a feather

That is a mockingbird

Who has not been tethered

It is free

It’s telling you

Look at me.

A Bad Day (Trigger Warning)

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The last time I had a breakdown was about a year ago when I was working as a cashier. I’ve worked as a cashier before, but working at a location where it was primarily male dominated made things a bit different. During this time, I was also attending a Trauma Support Group.

I reported to work like any other day, but I wasn’t prepared for the man with the eyes of a downright pervert; eyes like that is hard to miss, they just stare at you like you are some piece of meat;ready to pounce on you like a lion. I started to scan all his items. I was reaching for the last item and his hand caressed mine, “You’re so delicious. I’m looking for a woman. Interested?” His stare was nauseating. I immediately pulled my hand back and gave him his total. He paid and left. My hand trembled. I grabbed my hand sanitizer and poured a handful and rubbed it.

“It’s dirty… It’s dirty. Wash it off. WASH IT OFF!”

I didn’t realise a customer was waiting until he cleared his throat. I quickly looked up and assisted him, but my hand…it couldn’t stop shaking. After he left I paiged for cover while I ran to the restroom. As soon as I closed the stall door, my tears broke free. My whole body was trembling; I couldn’t stop. I called my husband and I cried. He listened and was able to give me some tranquility. I stayed in the stall for a few more minutes after we hung up. My mind was a haze the rest of the day. I couldn’t function for a while.

I haven’t had a serious breakdown after that incident. The Trauma Group I attended helped me in a way I cannot put into words. I was able to get back on my feet and breathe again. I was finding myself while accepting my symptoms.

Today, was unexpected though.

My sister in law is due in a few weeks, so when I was informed that she was having contractions I rushed to her house since I was going to be her driver. My daughter was in school, so the plan was that my father in law would pick her up and bring her to my sister in law’s house. I was aware of this since we have been planning back and forth for weeks now and I was okay with it, but as soon as the time was nearing for her bus arrival my anxiety escalated.

As I stated in my previous blogs, I was sexually harassed by my grandfather, so it took me a while to become accustomed to my father in law’s presence around me and especially around my daughter.

I kept exchanging glances between the clock and the door, memories of my grandfather and uncles abuse roamed my head like hungry beasts. I was uneasy.

You should have picked her up?

What kind of mother are you?

Why did you let you guard down?

I wanted her by my side. I was anxious. 3:51 p.m. and I heard the bell ring. I could see her beautiful face peeking from the side window. I quickly walked to the door and picked her up and sat on the couch with her. I looked at her and she smiled at me. “Are you okay sweetie?” I asked her, not letting her go.
“Yes mami!” She let herself loose and went to play with her cousins. I was still uneasy. I kept asking her if she was okay and she gave me the same response. We went outside to play and I whispered, “Did your grandfather touch you anywhere?” The innocence behind her confused look broke me into pieces. I smiled at her and told her to go and play. I couldn’t enjoy the beautiful, sunny day or the pure happy state that my children were in.

What is wrong with you?

My thoughts were running free and I stood there and watched them tear me apart with its darkness. I couldn’t handle being there anymore. I wanted to take my kids and leave that house, so I did. As soon as I got into the car, I started to feel some ease.

“I got away.”

When we arrived home, my daughter and I bathed together and I asked her one last time, “Did grandpa touch you?” I waited. “No mami. We were singing songs and that’s it.” I smiled and kissed the top of her head, “Okay mama.”

Now, I am here. In this space. In this room. On this bed and my thoughts are still running free. I feel powerless. I feel useless. I feel disappointed in myself. The list of negative thoughts is a perpetual zone and I am stuck in it.

Today was a bad day.

A Friend

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You push me away

You hide away

You desolate yourself

And become your own cage

While your insides scream

You throw away your freedom

I wonder…do you know we are here?

You create a show

And you are leading the stage

With your silent misery

I wonder…do you know we are here?

Our love is eternal

Our love is unconditional

Our love travels distance

Our love sings and dances

I wonder…do you know we are here?

You distract yourself in darkness

and choose solitude as a best friend

Have you not realised your friend is

a malicious fiend.

I wonder…do you know we are here?

Three musketeers we call ourselves

Yet, your bad days take you for themselves

Three musketeers we call ourselves

Yet, you seem so distant

It’s like your existence will vanish in an instant.

I wonder…do you know we are here?

I wish to tell you

YES, we are here.

We are here when you are breaking

When you are dying

When you are crying

We are here.

I will always say I love you until the end of time

Because no amount of time will break this bond

So, stay strong

Move on

Close your eyes and feel that darkness fade

It will grasp with all its might

But you have the power to decide whether it stays.

Never give up the fight to bloom into a better you.

We love you.