Sincerely October

Today and yesterday

A chapter about reflecting on my past and my life today.

Not as I once was
I spent much of my life rotting, how strange it is to feel yourself decaying and feeding the mushrooms and not be bothered by the soil..
I wasn't happy and I didn't want to be.
I couldn't tell you why I found comfort in this sense unease, why bleeding and bruising and aching felt like a high grade on my best short story, but it did.
I was well aware of these self defeating patterns, I knew what this was, I didn't know why and I didn't care, not really.
It was something that felt so primal, I needed to breathe and eat and sleep and bruise myself, it was a path that seemed so natural, and a deeply threaded path it was.
I was falling apart and I hated it, I hated writing poetry about my aches knowing they didn't have to be there, knowing that if I tried, if I really tried, they wouldn't be there like they were.
And I wish I could pick out the moment when that changed, I wish I could take a photo of that moment, I'd print it and keep it in the front of my backpack, in the clear pocket so I could always remember today and yesterday.
Maybe the moment was when I gathered all my tiny bags, my special high box and red glass vase I used to crush my pills and gave it to my dad. When I told him the truth and told him everytime I lied.
Maybe it was when I told my story to anyone who would listen. The moment when I told her my secrets before asking her name. When I overshared the details of the story I never thought I would let it leave my mind.
Maybe it's when I realized they aren't the ones I should be angry at, the moment when I realized they never meant to hurt me.
But maybe it wasn't one moment, is it ever?
It was a collection of strokes onto a painting that grows more sunny by the day.

Schizophrenia
I saw this coming, how could I not?
I know what I am, I always have.
I don't want to be schizophrenic, but I am.
As scary as it may feel to say that, I feel I can no longer deny it.
Not wanting to be a certain way doesn't change the way you are.
I can't punish and judge myself out of this.
I'd like to, I wish I could beat the hallucinations out of me, but that never worked, did it?
You see, I am learning to live with what is.
In my natural state, at baseline, I am hallucinating.
On a rainy night I am hallucinating, on a happy day I am hallucinating.
I perceive things that aren't really there, quite a lot actually.
Creatures that aren't human, false perceptions that feel malicious, voices that know exactly where to poke me.
My mind tells me stories that seem a bit too real, but I can learn to make peace with it.
I can write poetry even if my mind lurks in the shadows.