I built a bridge of patient, weary years, A silent span of quiet, chosen words, The mortar set with dried and vanished tears, A testament to battles, not rewards. My hands I offered, strong and open wide, To hold the weight of your erratic sphere, To stabilize the chaos you supplied, Yet only met a storm, a boundless fear. My effort was but dust upon the breeze, Against the wind of your profound unease.
When your world tilts and loses all its grace, The guttural cry of “holy hell” defines The atmosphere of this abandoned place, No longer haven, but a field of mines. A sudden, unexpected fire starts, Consuming fragile things that stood its test, Leaving behind a jagged, broken heart. With cruelty, you push me to the crest, The edge of sanity, my failing might, Expecting me to hold while you ignite.
I tried, desperately, to be the ground, The immovable foundation in the shake. I absorbed the shocks where steady peace was found, Withstood the tremors for your troubled sake. But now the space between us is a void, A profound, echoing, desolate expanse, Where kindness’s tender seed has been destroyed, And understanding lost its saving chance. Now only the choked vine of unyielding rage, And your consuming need across this stage.
I’ve studied your map of pain for far too long, Memorized the texture of each emotional scar, Anticipating where the wound would throng, An unwilling cartographer of your war. But in that process, I forgot my name, Eclipsed by roles I was compelled to fill: Your punching bag, the target of your flame, Your safe harbor, your shore against the chill. But that era’s ended, clarity now bright, I won’t be your refuse, your emotional blight.
The door to this shared history is heavy now, Weighted by expectation and old despair, But it is closed, with a final, solemn vow. The work I poured is starkly laid out there— Not as a failure of a loving mind, But as an investment that was misguided, deep. I failed no duty, I was not unkind, I simply chose myself, the promises to keep To me. I recognized the point of no return, And in that closure, finally, I learn.
In hushed whispers or a heartfelt plea, Prayer, a bridge unseen, yet meant to be. It floats on faith, a silent, feathered thing, To unseen ears, a message it can bring.
No padlock holds, no distance can confine, It slips through walls, a lifeline so divine. In sorrow’s depths, a flicker in the night, A spark of hope, a gentle, guiding light.
For burdens shared are lighter, that is true, But whispered prayers can mend a heart in two. It fills the soul with whispered, calming grace, A quiet strength to find a better space.
It holds no form, no color, nor a sound, Yet in its wake, a peace can be found. Like magic blooms, where worries used to cling, A fragile hope, on whispered prayer’s wing.
So let it rise, this magic yet unseen, A whispered word, a silent, trusting dream. For prayer’s soft touch, though subtle and unknown, Holds a power vast, to heal and make us whole.
No drama’s sting, a heart at peace. Toxic ties, a thing of the past, Lessons learned, freedom to last.
Their whispers dark, their barbs so keen, Dimmed your light, a shadowed scene. But courage rose, a strength within, You chose yourself, let healing begin.
Two wasted years, a memory faint, Replaced by joy, a vibrant paint. New connections, genuine and bright, Filling your days with warmth and light.
This milestone marks a victory won, A celebration, a brand new sun. Hold your head high, let laughter flow, The best is yet to come, you know.
So raise a glass, a toast to you, For strength and growth, a brand new view. May kindness bloom, and friendships true, Surround your life, forever new.
Mistakes, we’ve all made them, Some small, some big, some grand. But the ones that hurt the deepest, Are the ones we can’t take back.
Words spoken in anger, Actions taken in haste, Both can leave a scar that festers, Long after the storm has passed.
We try to apologize, To make things right again, But sometimes the damage is done, And the pain remains.
So let us be mindful, Of the words we say and deeds we do. For once they’re out in the world, We can’t take them back, it’s true.
But though we may regret our mistakes, They can also teach us valuable lessons. They can help us grow and learn, And become better versions of ourselves.
So let us not dwell on our past mistakes, But rather use them to guide our future way. For even though we can’t take them back, We can choose to learn from them, And move forward with grace.
Photo by FUTURE KIIID on Pexels.com (I chose this photo because it is peaceful.)
I’ve been working on my mental health, and I wanted to reach out to you all to explain a few things.
Last week, I posted a photo with the caption, “I’m sorry I don’t talk to you anymore. My anxiety told me that you hated me.” This was a reflection of how my anxiety can sometimes make me feel like everyone hates me, even when there’s no evidence to support that.
I just wanted to start by saying that I have ADHD, which means that I have a hard time focusing on one thing at a time. This can sometimes lead me to start working on something and then move on to something else without finishing the first thing. I also sometimes have to say something in the moment, and I apologize if I cut you off or move on from what you’re talking about to what I want to talk about.
I know that this can be frustrating, and I’m working on it. I’m trying to be more mindful of my attention and to listen more carefully to what other people are saying. Even if I have to get out what I’m thinking, I’m trying to remember to come back to what you were talking about.
I also found out that I have bipolar disorder. For me, this means that I experience periods of mania and depression. During my manic episodes, I feel energetic, productive, and happy. I may write 5,000 words in a day, clean the house, and cook elaborate meals. I might even bake.
Depression is the opposite of mania. During my depressive episodes, I feel sad, tired, and hopeless. I may have trouble sleeping or concentrating. I may also lose interest in activities I used to enjoy.
During my depressive episodes, I don’t get as down as some people do, but I still get down. Most of the time, this means that I don’t want to do anything. I force myself to get out of bed and work, but I don’t have the energy or motivation to do anything else. The things that need to get done get done, but the extras don’t. By extras, I mean talking to friends, writing, or cleaning the house the way it should be cleaned.
I have never felt like I was good enough. This has caused me to have problems in the past, especially with friendships. I have always said that I would never give up on a friend, but this has backfired on me. I think I used to talk to my friends too much, which came across as clingy. I just wanted to show them that I didn’t forget about them and that they were important to me.
Since then, I have stepped back and tried to be more mindful of my interactions with others. I know that not everyone is going to like me, and that’s okay. But it’s still hard for me to accept that. Because of this, I have been hesitant to reach out to people in my life, role-play, or chat with people I enjoy talking to. It takes me a while to feel comfortable and to be able to make new friends, and this has made it even more difficult for me.
The writing community can be especially difficult, as it’s very competitive. It can be hard to tell if someone is giving you genuine advice or if they’re just trying to sell you something. This has made me even more hesitant to reach out to people in the writing community.
I’m working on this, though. I’m trying to be more confident and to believe in myself. I know that I have a lot to offer, and I’m starting to realize that not everyone is going to see that. But that’s okay. I’m still worthy of love and friendship, even if not everyone sees it.
I know that I sometimes take things personally, and I’m working on that. I know this is a problem for me, and I want to be better at it.
If you’re my friend and you want to talk more or become better friends, please let me know. I know that my mind can sometimes make me think that no one wants to be my friend, but that’s not true. I want to be friends with you, and I want to make sure that we’re both happy in our friendship.
If I talk to you too much, just let me know. You can say something like, “Hey, I love talking to you, but I’m super busy right now.” I’ll understand, and I’ll back off.
Either way, we need to be honest with each other. If I do something that offends or bothers you, please tell me. I’ll do my best not to take it personally, and I’ll work on changing my behavior.
And if I don’t talk to you all that much, just let me know that you want to talk to me. I’ll make an effort to reach out more often.
I think a lot of people have this fear of being rejected or abandoned, and I’m no exception. But I’m working on it, and I’m getting better.
I’m also in therapy, and I’m talking to my therapist about this. She’s helping me to understand why I take things so personally, and she’s giving me tools to help me cope with my anxiety.
I wanted to be open about this because I think it’s important to talk about our mental health. We all have our own struggles, and it’s okay to ask for help.
If you’re struggling with anything, please don’t be afraid to reach out. There are people who care about you and want to help.
