Executive Function

Brain Fog

Brain Fog

This is one of the most important topics I’ll post about on this blog (hence why it is permanently “stickied” to the top of my blog). I don’t expect to do much on it tonight. It’s too important to me and too overwhelming. *cut for sheer length* Continue reading

Journal: Catch 22

My appointment with you today was a Catch 22. I think that you got frustrated with me because I wouldn’t say it verbally. By the end, you said it felt like I was putting you through a scavenger hunt. But I had left it with you in writing just two days prior. I had tried to find it for you then, in order to highlight it specifically for you.

Let me lay it out more clearly. You ask me what is the need or want behind the behavior. I’ve already said that it’s my #1 driving desire in the entire world and something I feel is shameful and wrong and I have to fight against my entire life, always have and always will. Then I ask you, will my answer affect the outcome [of your decision on this yes/no topic]? You say yes.

So now, I have already told you that my #1 need/want in the entire world is driving this behavior. And, if I tell you, it might cause the answer to be no, thus denying this need/want. Can you see why there is no way for me to tell you now?

I regret now that I spelled out exactly where it was in the writing so that you can revisit it before my next appointment. I wish I had asked for the papers back. All except for the required list aka permission slip.

I want to burn this bridge as no bridge burned before. But I won’t, yet. I should have taken anti-anxiety medicine prior to this appointment. None of this would have happened if I had. I had considered, but thought my anxiety level wasn’t that high this morning, compared against Wednesday morning. I’ll have to be sure to take it before my next appointment. Otherwise, I will likely not speak verbally to you at all, and it will be a great waste of money and time.

Poem: Can this be real?

A tiny spider inching upward
Dew drops, beads and light
Slivers
Only silver shards
So fine and bright.

Laced wings tremble
Flutter into the black distance.

Black with micro balls of light
Prickling like needles.

My tennis shoes soaked through
to wrinkled skin.
My watch battery dead.
My flashlight dead.
My cellphone dead.

Alive, is my heart, pounding
Wiping rain from my forehead.
Alive, is you.
Somehow.
Safe.

Short story: Originally written on Dec. 15, 2005

Once upon a time, there was a girl who lived in a dungeon, with a small, barred window that had a view of a large mountain, with a bright, sparkling creek running alongside it.

Today is a beautiful, clear summer day, and ravens are landing outside her window to eat the scraps of food left there by passing people.

“Excuse me, but can anybody hear me?” She asks. A few ravens pause midstep and cock their heads at her, then return to feeding.

Hmm, she thinks.

It’s strange that she wasn’t always this way. She hasn’t always lived in a dungeon, she hasn’t always been female, she hasn’t always been this young or timid or small.

Her cell wasn’t always filled with this thick smoke. She can hardly see! She can hardly feel.

She is confused.

How is it possible that I was once out there ON TOP or at least on the side of that mountain.

Then I transformed into a creature so cruel and hideous, I had to lock myself away in here.

I would like to be ~ALIVE~ once again, but is it safe to let myself out, now?

What if I hurt other people??!!??

What if other people or th—

[ The last sentence is cut off, unfortunately. ]

Poem: Originally written on Nov. 22, 2004, Monday night

  Memories,
   pictures
    Laughing at me
So much desire
     Gray, Flames,
      BURNING
Scald, a bird flies through
  “Help me if you can find me.”
New worlds, new lands
New games, new plans
New faces, new friends
New guilt and shame
New mistakes and blame

No place to hide.
No place to cry.

Poem: Originally written on Oct. 18, 2004, Monday night

Still Waters
Dark reeds in wind
     Swaying
To the rhythm of wind
and frogs croaking

I love you and will
always love you.

In the night, a horse
exited the forest
and approached
     thirstily
the pond’s dark surface water.

Cool water runs beneath
the surface.
Life stirs beneath the surface.

I love you.
Didn’t you know that?

Two reeds, rustling with
ridges rough, scraping
between wind gusts.

Didn’t you love me?

I know you did.

I trusted you.

You trusted me, didn’t you?

With you, the sky is
peaceful and black, with
white stars and dots.

There is a hum of harmony
across the surface and
grasses and trees

We can be as one.
We can live with each other.

My Impression of Depression, originally written on Jan. 7, 1996

The wind danced and spun around her. She was free at last. Stood tall. Let the wind ruffle her long hair. Raised her face to the sun’s warm rays and bathed in it with arms raised in triumph. Triumph against it all. Against everything. Brilliance dazzled off her teeth being shown in smile. A feeling traced her spine. Made it tingle. A feeling so strongly glorified that all traces of her strong sense of modesty were forced away. Far away — too far away. Something knew. Knew she had escaped. Gathered others — others who heard. Heard her triumph. Her majestic thoughts. Saw her image of purity circle itself in the breeze. They came. Gathered around her. Her ignorance. Her innocence. They circled her and closed in on her, still unknown.
Pain. Panic. She knew! She spun around. Fear. They grew and closed in on her. She knew, yet knew not the reason but could not ask. They had no gaps between them now. Each held out themselves to her. Embraced her in her fear. She did this to herself yet did not know, and ignorance could not be helped. They reached out and held her. Took her down. Forced her back to where she was. To where she had been. She already could no longer remember her time in the sun. Of the happiness she at one time knew. She struggled. Tried to climb the walls. The broken shambles of earth her fingers clung to helplessly. They lashed out in anger at her desperate need to escape. She tried to scream yet heard nothing. Her body trembled in silent rage. In her pain and anguish. But now she was changed. Before this she had accepted the darkness. The loneliness. The dull, numbness. The lack of feeling; of emotion. But this was to be her time. Her time of rejoice. Of freedom. But something caught her. Somewhere inside her enjoyed this endless solitude. Did not want to leave. Now she was caught in an endless struggle. A battle with herself. Her emotions. She threw her tearstained eyes upwards. Searching, for a way out, yet really searching herself. She craved the freedom yet darkness engulfed her. Left her no escape. Left her to her own misery for as long as she could put up with it. <For the rest of this lifetime>
     The
          End

[Reproduced as faithfully as possible, save a few spelling corrections and the addition of periods. I either wrote too lightly and the periods have faded in time, or I hadn’t used periods at all when writing this.]

[Additional note: Back then, I didn’t know that there might be other triggers for my depression (such as lack of sunshine or not going to bed at regular times), and I thought my internal thoughts were 100% to blame.]

Poem: Originally written on Nov. 15, 2005, Tuesday

Dreams
     of freedom
Dreams of sun
I want to be out there.
But with energy
     with drive
     with joy
Lift me up
     to the night winds
     to the dry leaves
     that blow across the
     barren land.
Let me sleep in the dirt.
Let me cry.
Let me hurt.
     Then let me be cleansed
in the sun and the rain.