a Living Breathing Journal of My PTSD Journey. as I Paint through the Pain & Celebrate Life.
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Wednesday, January 30, 2013
[13]
Can't fly,cant swim.....This is how I feel,as you look on I seem stranded, but not so much.....I'm above the water, I'm just waiting out the storm NOW! It realy is only THUNDER,and GOD know's I've been struck ,before.........80mph,if not more,just wish the crashing sound in my head (would quiet some) perhaps this is the demand my soul crave's to write music......Due to the orchestra,going on in my head! Paint, and sing,my spirt is AMBER (BRIGHT FIRE) that just won't quiet! Even with the cold, wet rain crashing against my flesh...It has made me realize,I am alive=just apart of me died. Maybe I was sleep walking,after the accident,maybe trauma,awaken your soul............One thing I know is, I am here for a reason. I have yet to serve my purpose, I will follow the SON with my soul (like a sunflower)follows the sun...... I will follow L[]VE, THANK YOU GOD,for not letting me give up on myself.....And I HOPE,anyone who claim's to LOVE me,does embrace me [I need YOU NOW] otherwise,LET GO! Or walk beside me...... LIFE is truely out of OUR control,I surrender it to GOD's WILL! .....My Love,You are here,and so I am here...........[I feel the light, I am drawn to it,for it is within me! One day,at a time X[]x I BREATH! I can't hold in my pain any more,my cup runth over,
When I cry, that cry. I feel every feature of my face disform....As my face,expresses a silent scream,then my eye's burst a river.....As I feel my face,and chest swell with the rush of heartache.....My heart begins to beat so fast,with such speed. Like a bullet,shot out of the chamber of a gun...... Then breath becomes deep,and shallow, as if I'm, reaching from the bottom of my soul.... As if I'm inside looking up,I feel my heart ripping right out from under my rib. As this near silent howl,comes from the bottom, of my soul......And I sob,like a baby,left cold,and unheld........All at once a overwhelmed heart,"say's I give! Take the rest of me....To have a heart,hurts to much........Scab's of love scrapped,then every heartache bleeds..... Echoing through, the broken chambers,of what use to be my heart......As I try to hold on to breath,I see through glassy eye's...Numbness,from face to feet, Is this my lesson, for loving.....The passage in my throat,is closed making it hard to breath... My facial fetures feel,like cured clay. A disfigured sculpture,to represent"WHAT IS PAIN" My heart slows down,and skips a beat,an off beat rythm....Always skipping a beat,as all broken hearts do,echo......THE CREATION OF RYTHM,AND BLUES......Yet I know it still remains to exist(my heart),because it hurt's so bad.... To remind me of life,to continue to breath,with pattern.....I feel as hallow,as a dying tree......In the middle of a green forrest,with one GREEN leaf left,breathe...ALEZIA
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Get over yourself. It is not all about you. Stop rolling around whinning about your pretend injuries from a mild accident and using pretend injuries to try and make people feel sorry for you. Everyone has had some truma in their lives. Most of us get over it and move on with our lives and keep being productive people. Others, like you, think that their trauma was worse that anyone else's, simply because it happened to them. Then they use the trauma to make excuses for why they can't be productive and for why they depend on me to support them.
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