Welcome back

Posted by Zeannaroux on

I’m alive. It’s funny because I didn’t expect I would be. I first created this blog as a way to work through my feelings. Most of the time this meant that the vast majority of what I wrote made no sense. Still, I continued to write because it helped in the long run. It enabled me to go back and figure out how I felt any given moment in my life.

And yet, I stopped.

I wish I could say that there was a valid reason for me doing so, but there isn’t. I am not better anymore but I am also not worse off than what I used to be. I am content. I am…well.

But now I am back.

Lyla

Posted by Zeannaroux on

I lost my great grandmother last week. Or was it the week before? I can not be certain because everyday sense as meshed together. I remember her funeral. I remembering grieving with everyone else. More than anything, I remember being alone. I love and hate being alone. This trait is something that made it difficult to keep in touch. But I tried to. I sent her pictures and I attended out family video calls. I even called her one on one when I could.

I can’t say it was enough though. I lost my Nana and I can barely remember her voice. I don’t remember what she looked like. My childhood is a giant fog. I know I love her. I know I hurt now that she is gone. But I don’t remember why. What memories did we share? I can not recall a single thing.

I am bad at titles

Posted by Zeannaroux on

There’s something crawling on my skin

I can’t see it, but I know they are there

My doctor said I should give them names

Personalize the pain I feel

Find the source, discover reason

But I am sure that this is where it starts

There is something Whispering in my head

It begs for some attention

My doctor says I should give it

Listen with an open mind, invision

The lingering meaning at its core

I am sure if I do that

I won’t have a doctor anymore

Fodder for the fire

Posted by Zeannaroux on

I occasionally plan out rants in my head

Minor thoughts of things I wished I said

But there are times when they take control

When they grow past my original plan

Morphing into something that leaves me with dread

Today’s nightmare happened fairly early

I wanted to debate with friends and family

Regarding abortion.

To make it known, I stand for freedom of choice

Because every voice, is worth listening to

But it’s my voice that I wished was silenced

Because it brought with it memories long passed

I thought I got over it, guess I didn’t

Now it’s dark outside and I am covered with fear

He isn’t here, but I can hear him breathing

The hitched sound of a grown man

As he gazes upon an unexpected child

It has been awhile, since I dreamt this dream

But I can feel him breathing, as though he was in me

I just wanted a clean debate

Wanted to talk about something important you see

But here I am laying dark

Trying to convince my beating heart

That the remembered man is not next to me

Picket Fences and Daisy Drops

Posted by Zeannaroux on

I’m sorry for thinking about what it will be like for us to grow old

Our links hands surrounded by hypothetical friends

Shared memories, this is only our beginning

And there is nothing stopping me from believing it will end

But I’m sorry for all the miscommunication

Stupid fights that ended in us breaking apart

I’m sorry for dreaming that we will last through time and dust

Because no matter what happens. It’s these dreams I will be left with

No matter what ends up being

It’s this future I will be forever grateful for dreaming

A heavy nightmare

Posted by Zeannaroux on

I wanted to be someone. I think about that daily.

I wanted to be someone and yet I sit. I became nothing. I am not helpless, nor hopeless, nor lost. I am not broken from the wasted pages surrounding the computer desk. I am merely something that became nothing. A person less blob of what could have been.

I am still capable of many things. I can still write my way into a heap. Carefully singing old hymns of what once was. A dream instead of a dark memory. I am here cutting away and pasting little hopes I once held for myself. I make the patterns on my skin.

I truly did want to be someone but I don’t actually remember what that someone is.

Nana (Revised)

Posted by Zeannaroux on

Happy birthday Nana, we love you so much

I melted to a tall tale
Whispered by children with the braided hair
Her skin, aged like the earth, brought forth stories on unknown worth.
I melted as far as the oak tree stands
Wine in hand with berry delight
A beautiful sight on a beautiful night
Clear cut eyes crinkle under the moonlight
“We have dreams we dare to share.”
Whispered the children with the kinked up hair
Her skin, aged like the earth,
She held her children close and told them stories she dared not show
And I melted to hear the tale
My dark brown skin and coiled hair,
Living the life, she gifted me
My children! Sweetly dancing
Beneath the growing tree
My family! Kneeling at the knee of the women
Whose eyes shine with the stories she shares
Her family! Listen in and
Whisper their prayers for God to hear
Thank you, Lord, for keeping her here.

Close, to close

Posted by Zeannaroux on

How could you leave when they are standing

By the door expecting

You to return, but there is nothing

That can save them now

Why would you leave them

For a bottle of forget me pills

Now they are graduating

First grade with a finger painted certificate

Hanging on grandma fridge

You told them they would always be with you

Pinky promise in the living room

With a lady in the corner

Taking notes as ordered

You smiled at them

And held them in your arms

But it wasn’t long until you were gone

They are in 6th grade now

And can’t remember how you feel

Because you decided to take a break

With forget me not pills at the kitchen sink

But they know your face

Stiffened with grace

Though grandma does all she can

She is suffering in your place

Because it’s her baby girls body

That flashes in your place

How could you leave them?

When things just started to change

I hope it was worth it

Because they may never understand

Inspired by NF

Blue is such a bitter flavor

Posted by Zeannaroux on

I started some new medications recently—something to rid me of these anxious thoughts and my inability to sleep. I would love to state that I am doing better, but I am not. Those who are privy to medication know that it takes some time for the true effects to be known. But this made me think of something that I may have spoken about before.

Hospitals

Rather, hospitals with a psych ward that keep patients between 3 to 5 days on average. All depending on what their insurance is willing to cover, of course.

I have been to many of them in my years and can remember how each visit ended in a lie.

Yes! I am fine.

The funny thing is that this lie was encouraged. They were cultivated by doctors and nurses who wanted to send you on your merry way. I am sure it wasn’t their true intention to make liars of us all, but they did. I remember one hospital stay. I had an episode because they would not let me see my child during visitations. Said that I had not yet earned to privilege of such a treasure. Of course, I was livid and reacted in a way one with a mental disorder would. I cried. I screamed; I tore up pieces of paper as a way to prevent myself from assaulting a nurse. I did all of the things because I was in pain and needed an outlet.

Rightly so, this did not give me what I wanted. But I remember my doctor coming up to me later that evening. He warned me that due to my outburst, they were thinking of keeping me an extra day. He acted as though me staying till I was better was this terrible thing. I felt so confused when he said this because I did not see it as such. Yet his cautious words stuck with me as he went on to say, “Pretend that everything is fine, don’t let them see you react. Tell them that you are fine.”

So I did. I perfected the art of smiling while crying as a child and as an adult; I learned to hide my fears with sarcasm and anger. So I combined these skills in such a way that I came off as Ok. I was Ok, to the nurses at least. And instead of being made to stay an extra day, I was released a day earlier with none the wiser that I was dying inside. And that medication? It magically started working after only three days of taking it. A mental ward miracle, as we all learned to describe it.

And that doctor…

I hate him.

Not because of the advice he had given me but from the sheer fact that he proved that this whole system is flawed when I needed so much for it to work. I was done with lying, but he reminded me that a liar’s talents are always in use.

And the medication? It ended up not working for me. But of course, I did not know this till a month later. Luckily by that one, I had a psychiatrist who helped me figure out meds that did work. On top of that, I also saw a therapist regularly. I eventually stopped it, and for a few years, I did fine. But now I am back on them because I am no longer Fine.

So I sit here remembering that doctor and wondering to myself if he is doing ok.

I taste the loss of control

Posted by Zeannaroux on

A bitter innocent and the hint of contempt make it impossible to sleep. Yet she wraps her arms around me and dares to dream while I lay shuffling through nightmares; I’m almost completely devoid of anything else. These nights break me, but she won’t let me shatter. I wonder if this is worth it.

I didn’t get evicted. Mainly because they never showed up like they said they would. For two days, I sat there thinking the worst. Holding this belief that I had not only failed my child but lost us a home, and they never even came to check things out. It makes me wonder if they were just having a bad day when they made that threat. It’s the only reason I can think of as to why they haven’t talked to me about it. I have had no emails or calls, and though I have walked to the office a few times, it hasn’t been mentioned as of it.

So what was with them making those threats? What was with them scaring me? I know that I should probably count my blessings.

I have my home

In a few weeks I will have my job

My daughter is safe and happy, as am I.

So what’s the problem?