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The Need to Feel

Cindy Darkheart — Fri, 23 Nov 2012 02:40:50 +0000

Skin crawling
Wounds calling
Cut me
Open me
Don’t let
Me heal

Shadows crawling
Life calling
Feel me
Need me
Please let
Me heal

©copyright Cindy Darkheart~DaRk Whispers-A Dark Poetry Blog

cindydarkheart.wordpress.com

Feeling Good

Cindy Darkheart — Tue, 13 Nov 2012 20:15:41 +0000

I feel good today. I got up early to go to the bank before work and make my first car payment. The weather is cold (for South Texas). I am wearing a new blouse. Also, I stopped myself from digging into my cuticles this morning. The baby steps are coming along. This week is so different than last week. I don’t know why, but I will take it. My need to try and analyze and figure out the whys drives me bonkers. I just know that last week I felt physically ill from my emotions and this week I am not. I plan to go for a walk when I get off work tonight. My toenail that I pulled off last week no longer hurts and its just an all around good day. It feels good to acknowledge the little mess ups and not feel like they negate the progress. It feels odd not to be so full of anger, fear, and pain at the time of posting to the blog. They may come back. Those feelings probably will, but the difference is, today I feel peaceful and its not from alcohol.

My Background

boundbroken — Thu, 08 Nov 2012 02:30:03 +0000

I am a 31-year-old female, married to a wonderful understanding man for 11 years now with no live children; we have lost 6 babies. I have just recently started up therapy again after a long break from it, and my therapist thinks it would help me overcome a lot of my issues by writing about them, I am willing to try anything at this point. Now I have been diagnose with major recurring depression, C-PTSD and panic disorder which was caused by 18 years of physical abuse, emotional abuse, psychological abuse, sexual abuse and neglect with emotional abuse still today from time to time from my mother. My abuse from what I remember started when I was molested at 5 years old by a neighbor, around the same time is when my parents started fighting like crazy with screaming and yelling pushing and shoving, slapping and hitting which the last 2 was not all the time but the rest was almost daily. My mother was a stay at home mom who got fed up real easy with me and my brother, which I can understand getting fed up when you have a child that was real hyper most of the time as a kid (my brother). She tried spanking both of us with her hand which never worked on my brother, to hair brushes to paddles and then stopped spanking us herself when she broke a paddle spanking my brother, which led to her screaming at my father to take care of us. My father sat us down and told us that he was tired of our mother screaming about us kids misbehaving so from now on he does not care who it was that was misbehaving he was just going to go up to the first kid and spank them with a belt 10 times. Well I was the one he always came up to though I never acted up as a kid I just tried to stay out-of-the-way and unnoticeable, my brother was the one he always saw first but still he would come find me and hit me with the belt 10 times for something my brother would do. The spanking never ended until I was 17 years old and finally started standing up to him about it. The Emotional and psychological abuse came in play roughly around 5 years old also, My father was not happy with my hygiene, he thought I was not washing my hair and body good enough and thought I was to fat at 5 years old and too stupid, So he started telling me everyday sometimes several times a day just how “stupid, fat and ugly” I was and that I needed to slim down and take better care of my self or no one would want me. Ok so here’s the behind the story… I was molested at 5, being only 5 years old I did not know how to process it and I feared going to my parents since all they ever did and scream and yell and hit me with the belt, so my 5-year-old mind thought if I was unclean maybe they would not want to touch me again. Which by the way did not work, if fact it upped my physical abuse because of it and I was still being molested. So I was depressed at 5 when I was home I was in my room hiding and listening to music to block out my parents fights. They never noticed the signs that I was molested, which their were signs, at 5 you should not know positions and sexual acts. I asked my mother after I was married why they never saw it she said I stumbled upon my fathers playboy mag once…. um No, I’m sorry can’t learn that much off a playboy mag. Later in life around 10 years old my brother (who is 1 & a 1/2 years older) started molesting me, it ended around age 13-14. Around 10 years old we had to move into my father’s dad’s house to help take care of him till he passed. He was not a good guy at all, he would peep at my mom, hit my brother and molested me and my brother. My mother always favored my brother from her I received most of the emotional and psychological abuse, even to this day when she drinks she will call me to tell me how horrible of a child I was and that she never wanted me only my brother or on a real bad drinking night that she wants to kill my dad and then kill herself. Anytime I spoke up for myself to ask why it was I was being hit when I have not done anything wrong that it was in fact my brother she would push and slam me into walls or furniture telling me look what I did to her baby boy… When I turned 18 I finally got a car and was able to leave the house I ended up hanging out with the wrong guys which led to an abusive relationship that resulted in him raping me for about 3 months, the last month he started bringing other guys around and ended with a 6 guy gang rape. About 6 months later I met my husband and married him 6 months after that (right after I turned 20). I will go into my abuse further as I really start to write later on. I mostly want to do this to hopefully put an end to my ugly past and be able to stand tall for once and fight for what I want which is to be happy.

Out of Focus

Broken Light: A Photography Collective — Sun, 04 Nov 2012 20:03:58 +0000

Photo taken by Katia, a 23-year-old woman who lives in the Ruhr Area of Germany. She was diagnosed with somatoform disorder and panic disorder with a phase of anxiety in 2008. Since then, she has struggled to live with a lot of symptoms, such as extrasystoles (an irregular heartbeat) and nervousness. She completed her first therapy successfully in 2010. Unfortunately recent episodes in her life have pushed her to her limits, so she will soon start her second therapy, which she would like to document with her pictures. She is a student of History and German language and literature studies, but besides writing, photography is her biggest hobby, one that helps her express feelings.

About this photo: “This picture “Out of Focus” was taken for my 365project, after I decided yesterday to start a new therapy. It´s hard to learn that some things can bring you back to your knees. But I also would like to show that I am optimistic so the picture is not B&W but colourful. My biggest wish is to get my symptoms under control so that I will be free to design my life like I want it to be. Happy, cheerful and full of love… I believe I am able to do so!“

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I Feel Free

Cindy Darkheart — Sat, 27 Oct 2012 17:09:59 +0000

Today, or at this moment I should say, I feel free. There is a chill in the air. The window is cracked so I can feel the cold. I am under a blanket. I don’t have to go outside today. That’s probably the best part of the freedom. Ironic, yes? I feel the most freedom inside my or my daughter’s apartment? Like a trapped animal that enjoys the confines of the trap.
I have looked at my wounds with pride, not shame today. I have rubbed my fingers or my toes over the wounds that are almost healed. It feels good to touch them. It feels good to feel the roughness. I have been awake for an hour and a half and I have looked at or touched my wounds about six times. The last time felt do good I moved my fingers away quickly for fear that the touch would become mad digging.
So for now at this moment I feel good. At this moment I feel in control if the thing I do for control. Haha! That was a good line.
At this moment it’s just me, the blankets, my DBT book, my devotional book “Jesus Calling” and the all day Netflix marathon I am about to have.
I feel free.

Walking Scab

Cindy Darkheart — Fri, 26 Oct 2012 05:41:18 +0000

Today was trying, but I would say successful. Tuesday night was tough, but therapy helped. He said I made progress because I allowed myself to feel without harmbig myself. He is the expert. So it must be good. Since Tuesday night I have been gloating between mindfulness, guilt, and fear. I texted my brother and told him I can’t do it anymore. I feel guilty for involving him and making him worry. My daughter called at 5:30 am. She has never called that early, that means my brother told her. She has enough to worry about with her job, head school , and trying to find s place for her practicum (sp) I feel terrible for making them worry. Doc thinks its still a success I allowed myself to feel everything. The booze did not alleviate my pain and I did not self injur or pick. I feel like my whole body I’d a walking open wound that I have yanked the scab off and dug in until my fingers and hands were full of blood. Do in understand? I am not talking about one if my wounds – I am saying that I am a walking wound.
Yet I am still practicing mindfulness. Relaxation excercises- in between my episodes throughout the day. And now , sweet sleep..,.. Laterz

Exhausted

Cindy Darkheart — Sat, 20 Oct 2012 21:55:08 +0000

I am soooo tired. There were really bad days this past week and pretty good days. Kind of like a pendulum. My car died and that can be trying for anyone. I had come to the conclusion that I would take the cut in pay and leave my job for the sake of my mental health. My job exacerbates all of my issues as it is a high pressure job. The only way I have been able to function since returning to work, is with the thought that I won’t be dealing with those Fuckers much longer….I still cry at some point of each day I am there-thank God I am in the last cubicle at the very end of the floor….anyway with a new car I now have a car payment which I have not had in 7 years. So it looks like I have to stay in that hell hole job. I am trying to stay in the moment though I stray probably 50 times a day if not more. You know how it goes. Imagining doom and gloom or kicking yourself for the past. Not acknowledging anything positive. I have made some improvements which I will admit. And I look for things that make me feel good. Candles, scary movies, vodka ( well I said I would be honest on here – no bullshit.
Lastly the huge gash on my leg is starting to heal. I am trying desperately to leave it alone as I bought a few skirts before I returned to work and I won’t wear them with this huge black mark bigger than a 50 piece cent just below my shin. Sooo I have continued to dig into my cuticles until they bleed. When I was signing the tons of paperwork for the new car, I noticed the man looking at my fingers. Maybe I can manage to just do it on my left hand….gotta go… I am so tired and writing thus post has drained me.
Oh yeah my suicidal ideations came back. Three times last week. I would never leave my daughter intentionally. But I don’t think I would mind it if I died. I am still working on myself. Thinking about dying does not mean I have given up. I am just so Fucking tired. It’s tiring being Cindy and its hard work changing Cindy. What’s a girl to do?? Get a lot of sleep!!!

I still miss the hospital. I had a dream about my therapist there and my psychiatrist. I saw the therapist twice a day(more if I needed it) and my psychiatrist every other day. Oh the joys of a private mental hospital. There I go again, leaving the moment and ruminating. Ciao!!

Survived!!

Cindy Darkheart — Thu, 18 Oct 2012 02:03:55 +0000

She lives to face another day. It wasn’t such a bad day after all. Today was therapy day and I need my weekly tune-up. Also as the day went on, my thoughts stopped booming “You need to be home You need to be home You need to be home”

It reminds me of the movie The Shining when we think Jack Nicholson has been writing his book and it shows that all he has typed was pages and pages of “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy”

YOU NEED TO BE HOME YOU NEED TO BE HOME YOU NEED TO BE HOME YOU NEED TO BE HOME YOU NEED TO BE HOME ……………..haha it turns out I didn’t. One point for Cindy!

Three People

Cindy Darkheart — Wed, 17 Oct 2012 21:18:17 +0000

I have had a very traumatic weekend. My car died, had to get a new car with no idea how I was going to do that. Having a car payment now means staying at the job I hate. The psychologist said well, you don’t know that. You are fortune-telling again. All of my fortune-telling is of doom and gloom- surprise! Any way, I haven’t felt this anxious and befuddled since before I went in the hospital. I feel like I am three people: the logical me who knows why I do things and feel things but can’t seem to control it, the me who is working on herself and realizing “damn this is hard fucking work” and lastly the me that says my brain can’t be rewired and I am tired of living this way.

I did not cut or dig into my skin last night. That is because I made a mega stiff cocktail to take with my meds. So don’t go patting me on the back. I am tired of thinking about and working on my problems. Maybe I need to do volunteer work somewhere. I don’t have any friends intentionally. I am very sure they would get sick to death of me and my negativity. It can be soooooooo draining to be around someone who always says negative things.

Anyway, I like my new car it feels good. Though I am still scared about the car payments. That doesn’t mean anything. I am scared of everything. Thus the panic attacks eh? Enjoy your day. And I just feel like saying God is good. It had to be h is hands guiding the situation when I got the car. I had no money to put down and no car to trade in as my Susie (my 95 Geo Metro) would not even start to get to the dealership LOL

I miss the hospital. I liked it there….

Panic Attack and Bloody Cuticles

Cindy Darkheart — Thu, 11 Oct 2012 21:41:36 +0000

I had another panic attack Wednesday. Ironically, it happened in the psychologist’s office. It lasted about 15 minutes I think. I felt helpless and terrified like I was in the hospital again. By the time I left, I was calmer and drove on to work where I remained shaky but functional the rest of the day.

This morning I started crying when I got to my cubicle. I think it’s because I stopped by the lady’s room on the way to my cubicle for a little quiet time. There was no quiet time. People kept coming in and out and there was a line of women waiting to do their thing. I actually stayed in there until all but one other person was in there. I washed my hands quickly and prayed I could get my hands washed and dried before the other person came out, or another person came in.

Oh how I wish I could stay indoors and never have to leave. Just me and my emotional illness and my cutting. Yeah Yeah I know…….I am working on myself and I am getting better and I am willing to recognize the good moments and not just the bad ones. But I would be lying if I said that I don’t think of giving up. That would be the easy and fulfilling thing to do. But, it is false fulfillment. It is hard to work on yourself-very hard. My mind tries to sabatage me all the time, and my senses get bombarded so easily.

Thats okay. I may whine, fail, get sick of the cycles……but I am still trying. Thats what counts! Lunch break almost over. Four more hours and I get to race home. To my comfort zone, to my world, my sanctuary. The place where I can breath the easiest. Some days it feels as if I am holding my breathe all day long until I am back home. No wonder I am always tired LOL

Growth

Cindy Darkheart — Tue, 09 Oct 2012 16:52:49 +0000

If we’re growing, we’re always going to be outside of our comfort zone. – Rev. Run

Tomorrow

Cindy Darkheart — Mon, 08 Oct 2012 03:58:00 +0000

Tomorrow will be a good day. I will make it so!

Fear and Gashes

Cindy Darkheart — Mon, 08 Oct 2012 03:35:50 +0000

I just had my first panic attack in two weeks. I used to have one every Sunday night. The fear of going back to work on Mondays. The fear if going outside after spending an entire day it weekend inside. Mindfulness. I remembered it, but the panic had already set in and it was too strong to get back in the moment. It will take time and practice I know. I called my daughter. I called my boyfriend. Hoping the sound of their voices would help.
About an hour before the panic attack I spent several minutes ( I have no idea how long ) opening the gash on my leg further. I used this triple antibiotic ointment I bought a long time ago on my leg just now. Just like a previous post, my leg hurts like a son of a bitch. Again, repeating the same shit over and over. The same cycle over and over. Fuck!! I am fifty fucking years old. This cycle has taken place hundreds of times. No pity party. No giving up. Fall down 7 times, get up 8. Mindfulness. Coping skills….

Mindfulness

Cindy Darkheart — Sat, 06 Oct 2012 17:52:26 +0000

I am on the couch watching an old ghost story starring George C. Scott and his wife Trish Van Devere – The Changeling from 1980.
My mind continues to drift to the past week’s fears, tears, numbness, and self injury. I am trying to grasp and practice mindfulness. Okay so I let those thoughts flow through without ruminating and obsessing. Then my mind goes to what the upcoming week holds. How I looked down as I took a walk this morning. How I dug into my cuticles again and how the wounds
on my leg still hurt…back to mindfulness stay in this moment…don’t chastise yourself for the thoughts and fears that relentlessly come and go.
As I brought myself back to the moment yet again, I chuckled to myself
…hell if I am not dwelling on the past or thinking of my fears of going to the grocery store and back to work Monday-if I am not consumed by the mixture of pride shame and guilt for self injuring- what the hell would I do with my time haha.
As I become more aware of my feelings instead of trying to stuff them or numb them, it’s such a strange dichotomy. I tore the nail off of my baby toe, my cuticles are raw and bleeding, and the wounds on my legs are tender and swollen. If this post is all over the place that is because that’s how I feel right now-in this moment. I feel like I am teetering on the brink of some great breakthrough or some great tragedy….that’s why I hate to FEEL.

NEED to be home

Cindy Darkheart — Fri, 05 Oct 2012 19:18:38 +0000

I am light-headed, can’t concentrate, and trying not to cry. I really need to be home, but I can’t leave work. I am sick to my stomach at the thought of leaving my cubicle to go to the ladies room. Three more hours until the day shift leaves. Then I only have the 8 people on my team around. I made a mess of my wound last night, but you know what? No matter how many times I fail, (which is mostly everyday) I STILL KEEP TRYING…..break time over

Scars

Cindy Darkheart — Thu, 04 Oct 2012 16:55:54 +0000

Scars remind us where we have been. They do not have to dictate where we are going. David Rossi-Criminal Minds.

Today I am so afraid. Of what I don’t know. Does it even matter? I am trying to practice mindfulness more and more (I need it because my mind wanders and ruminates) . This shit is hard work, but I will do it!!
Third day back to work on a full schedule. Today is the hardest and I haven’t even begun. It feels like I can’t speak. It feels like I am frozen in fear. Breathing exercises and mindfulness,
I have got positive affirmations all over my cubicle…..Ciao

Seroquel and Other Rants

Cindy Darkheart — Tue, 02 Oct 2012 04:41:00 +0000

I don’t like to take my Seroquel cause it knocks me the fuck out ( makes me think of the Ice Cube Chris Tucker movie Friday)
Then I miss my tv shows and talking to my boyfriend since he gets off late. Tomorrow is my first day back on a full time schedule.
Of course u am afraid. I am afraid of any stress. Why can’t I be like those rich agoraphobics who live in big beautiful homes or condos and have assistants to go out for them? Because life is not like a fucking movie. Unless you are the likes of Romney or Trump.
Okay so back to the issue at hand. I will survive tomorrow! I will not fear to the point vomiting and stuttering. And if I do, so what. Clean it up and keep going. Fall down seven times…get up eight.

Can't?

Cindy Darkheart — Sat, 29 Sep 2012 16:36:11 +0000

If you say CAN’T, of course you CAN’T. If you say CAN, if course you can!

Smorgasbord of Thoughts..get back in the moment

Cindy Darkheart — Thu, 27 Sep 2012 17:32:32 +0000

My supervisor wants to buy my book on Kindle. I had a copy with me so I let her read some samples. A sale is great as I have no way to track sales or know if people like Juxtaposed Darkness or think it sucks.
The problem is that now I will feel naked around her. She knows some of my issues as we were “work friends” before she became one of THEM (management).
Anyway, we were discussing the fmla issue that awaited me upon my return to work. I have been limping because somehow I sprained my foot in my sleep (how the hell is that possible?)
I did not put makeup on the huge scar on my right leg directly above my foot as I was wearing a long skirt. As I lifted my leg to show my swollen foot, she saw the scar. It was a very uncomfortable moment.
I had gotten to the point where I no longer hide my scars, but this one is especially dark and large. Due to the melanin in my skin ( I am Black) I scar very easily and some of the scars are actually black.
So now I am struggling with the fact that I love to wear dresses and skirts but I have this Huge black mark on my leg. If I cover it with makeup, I am breaking my promise to myself.
That’s another reason why it would be good if I never had to go outside. I know- that’s not practical.
I am working on not giving a shit if people look at me, but it will take a long while to get there. It’s on my list!!
Laterz…

I Always Hated that ..life gives you lemons make lemonade shit... How About..Fucked Again

Cindy Darkheart — Fri, 21 Sep 2012 18:44:36 +0000

Well, on my third day back I was put on a documented discussion saying that the last two weeks of my APPROVED short term disability, I did not have enough fmla to cover it. Therefore I lost my job protection and they are counting it as unexcused absences ”because short term disability and fmla run congruently yet are two different things”

Of course my job or case manager did not tell me that I was running out of hours and now cannot miss one day of work for the rest of the year without being put on a write up. I would have returned to work sick. Whats the difference…I returned to work sick now for financial reasons. Fall down seven…get up eight…..When God closes one door, he opens another…practice my breathing tehniques…the only break I get from my terror is drinking-which I must stop again. Its not a good crutch.

Hey thanks for being a friend Rose!I have begun my job search today to find something with pay as close to what I make now as possible. Already spoke to an attorney and to qualify for disability I would have to be destitute while going through the process. He says I could be homeless, live in a shelter….bull fucking shit I have never been destitute in my life and I am sure as hell not going to do it voluntarily to try to get some benefit that is not enough to live on anyway.

Hard Work

Cindy Darkheart — Thu, 20 Sep 2012 15:32:11 +0000

I had a session with my psychologist yesterday. It was beneficial to say the least. I was describing the panic attacks I have had leading up to my return to work. I tried to describe the terror I feel while there.
I called my psychiatrist to find out time wise how soon can I take a Xanax since they are TID.
I have successfully numbed myself at work and it feels like I am watching myself in a movie in which I am also the narrator. I kicked myself for falling back on the old coping skill instead of using the tools I learned at the hospital. I was just literally terrified and numbing myself was the only way to go outside, get in the car, drive to that awful place, and get to my cubicle.
Yesterday was not as difficult. Tonight I sit with someone as a refresher. Tomorrow, I actually start work. The pressure will be on. I made a new wound on my left leg and have prevented another from healing.
With all of that said, I am still working on myself!

Alone in a Restaurant

Cindy Darkheart — Wed, 19 Sep 2012 02:44:00 +0000

For the first time since my early 20s, I am eating alone at a restaurant. I feel so numb from work and I didn’t want to go home. My daughter is at work. My boyfriend is at work an hour and a half away.
I don’t know what’s come over me. Today’s numbness feels different than past times when I disassociated. Tonight I feel invisible….

Affirmation

Cindy Darkheart — Tue, 18 Sep 2012 17:59:17 +0000

“Fall down seven times, get up eight.”

Illness

Cindy Darkheart — Mon, 17 Sep 2012 14:03:59 +0000

YOU are NOT your illness

Physically ill, Yet Armoured with Tools

Cindy Darkheart — Mon, 17 Sep 2012 13:30:49 +0000

You are not your illness. I am reading this DBT skills workbook my psychologist recommended. I have read that sentence and paragraph
several times and will probably read it many more. Those are pretty profound words! I am not just a chronically depressed person who thinks about death far too much. I am not just a person with panic disorder who gets sick whenever she has to go outside, I am not just a self injurer. It’s just words now, but it strikes me as important. So I am going to read and think them over and over.
Tuesday I return to work on a part time schedule for two weeks. Needless to say I am terrified. I made a new and visible wound on my left leg and I tore most of the nail off on my baby toe.
Oh yeah and I have been drinking. I think i mentioned that in a prior post.
Am I getting better? On the surface
it would seem not, but I think I am. I am more in tune with my triggers. I have occasional success with my coping tools….
I just need to survive long enough to get better at using those tools before fear, predictions of doom, anger, thoughts of death because there is no way to fix me, and scarring up my entire body takes place.
I would Never Ever create wounds in places impossible to hide previously. Now I have two very visible wounds on my legs. That must mean something. I must remember to ask the psych on Wed.
I don’t feel as bad as this post may sound. It is actually a positive post about my growth.
I feel physically sicker as tomorrow approaches, but I know that I will do it. I must do it!!
My father wants me to try to get on disability. Although it would be heaven not to work, wouldn’t that be giving up? Wouldn’t that make me more if a shut in just making my agoraphobic tendencies become actual full blown agoraphobia?
32 hours until my return to work….