Broken Angel

No one notices
and no body sees
the fallen angel
on bended knees.

Raising her vision to
the lonely skies,
she silently screams
and slowly dies.

Her wings were broken
by her terrible fall
but not her spirit
as she walks tall.

Strong in her heart
as in her mind
lingers the past
which was rarely kind.

With no other choice,
she pushes back hate
and walks ever forward
toward whatever fate.

Whether life or death
heaven or hell,
she'll accept what's
given till end of the bell.

Unemployed

This hasn't been the easiest week. I was forced to quit my job as a cashier, not a big loss, but I don't have any income at the moment. My mother watches too much late night "news" and is convinced that I am "handicapped" and can't "have other people working" with me. I told her that if I'm disabled I better be able to get money for this. My therapist tells me that she's never heard of such a thing. I think I'll trust the woman who has the degree in the mental department.

Since I'm unemployed, I canceled the appointment I had with Dr B and emailed her an explanation as to why. Basically I have to save whatever money I can and she's a commodity that I can scarce afford. She replied that she'd give me a session because she felt that I was having too much at once and needed some encouragement. THANK YOU, DR B!! I don't know if she realizes how much I needed to hear that I'm not useless, that I'm not "handicapped", that I can do this. I know my coping skills aren't great, but at least I'm coping. She doesn't berate me for injury, though she does agree that coping by cutting isn't healthy. She encouraged me to do things more creative, like my jewelry or knitting.

I'm hunting for work, probably end up in a restaurant or something. I'll lie to my parents of course. Plaster that damned smile on my face and make everything look all peaches and roses. No one notices, nobody sees... they never do. Not even when I'm looking them in the eye, they can't see the pain in my own. I can, I see it plane, every morning and every night when I look in the mirror.

Disjointed

I'm worried that I'm not seeing any true progress. I've been going to therapy for over a year now and not much seems to be any different. Of course, only going every other week doesn't help. I see her again tomorrow and I'll ask about progress. I need better coping skills.

Last night was hard on me. All I wanted to do was injure. I had no real reason, just that I could not deal with feeling the way that I did. I felt all disjointed and not really connected to the world in general and myself in particular. My hands don't feel like they are truly mine, but slightly off kilter. I want to cut now just to feel something solid. I could risk it, I know I could. No one is paying attention to me, few do.

But what would it accomplish? Nothing really. Sure I'd feel 'together' for a while but then the guilt would set into me. I'm so tired of all this, all this topsy turvy shit going on in my head. Its hard for me to even close my eyes without feeling like I'm about to blow away.  There has to be something better to do, there has to be...

Special Treat

I usually don't eat breakfast on my days off. I don't care, which is a problem. Anyway... I have therapy tomorrow and decided that if I left a little early I can go to a local cafe and finally try their breakfast. I plan on having "Fancy Toast"-- French toast with apple and cinnamon swirl with whipped cream cheese and fruit. Add a cup of coffee and I think that will do. I have grocery shopping to do as well.

I'm still job hunting, there's a place that I need to check tomorrow as well. A company that provides care takers for the elderly. Not nurses, just people to help with doctor's appointments and grocery shopping, that kind of thing. Seems that would be more fulfilling then what I'm doing now. I feel like a waste of energy just ringing through groceries all damned day.

We'll see what a nice breakfast, therapy of difficulty, a hope and a prayer can accomplish tomorrow.

Mix

So I sent a blog to Dr B, "Partial Suicide". We'll see how I handle that discussion. Its going to be hard because I'll have to confront my self harm in a harsh light. "My self harm" I've said that before and I'll say it again, though it seems strange to me. Self injury is different for each person that engages it. Some injure to escape emotional pain, some because pain is all they've known. For all its similarities, self harm is different.

Right now, for instance, I'm scared out of my mind to talk openly about self injury to a face. I know it has to be done, which is why I won't run from it, but it doesn't mean that I have to like it. It doesn't mean that after the chat I won't burn in the car, or cut when I get home. It means that I will be brave and talk about the worst possible part of myself. Even now, I'm edgy, but I think that is just my current "normal". I'm back to hardly sleeping at night, only getting a good rest after 1am. Oh well... I'll deal the best I can, like I always do.