Month: November 2015

Going.

~ Gita ~ Leave a comment

Don’t confuse courage with impulsiveness.
Being fearless means not much when it doesn’t come from fear first. Any breakthrough will only matter, if it’s made both mental and emotional.

Thinking things through is as important as following your heart. Because in your soul, the two combine. Cognition plus emotion form what you consider as self. All ego aside, you will need that self to be who you are and become who you want to be. There is no moment when you’ll have any of these figured out. It’s an continuous proces, we like to call it life. And it’s clearly not about getting somewhere, but it is about going.

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Survival is selfish.

~ Gita ~ Leave a comment

My neighbors might think I run a bdsm dungeon, because at times I scream and cry so loud that it sounds like I’m being tortured.

Which, essentially, I am.

I have episodes of depression and anxiety attacks that are so severe. When every fiber in my body is conspiring together to hurt myself.
In the pure desperation to overpower myself, I have no sense of control.

By any means necessary, I have to protect and save myself.
From myself, by myself.. that struggle not many will understand.

I can’t rationalize myself out of it, there is no logic or reason.
There’s only survival.
Calming myself down could actually turn out to be more dangerous.

Every episode asks for its own individual approach. One time, a cigarette might suffice. The next day a walk could ease my nerves. Another moment I will collapse in the weakness of my flesh and dissolve in the saltiness of my tears.

There is no way to prepare or prevent these attacks from happening or coming at me.
There’s no way to know in advance how to deal with that particular anxiety that’s going to infect me next.

Once I’m in it, I’ll fight with all I have to reach through and make it out alive and unharmed.

By any means necessary, I won’t apologize for how. Survival is selfish.

Now I will

~ Gita ~ Leave a comment

My heart is too widely open
I could be crouched down with a blade pressed to my skin
But if someone would then and there need me, I’d forget all the hate and hurt, just for them, temporarily
To have it waiting for me when I return to myself

I will still, help, love, care
Even if I can’t do any of those for myself
My heart is too widely open
But the love flows one way
Because I don’t know how to receive
I’m not blaming anyone else
It’s not self pity either

Just a reality I either have to get used to
Or find a way to change
But what makes me think, that after 15 years of trying
Now I will succeed?