Wednesday, 31 August 2016

By Any Means (August 31, 2016)

Each passing second
My mind drifts
Ever so
Further away.

As my ability
To concentrate
On anything

Was able 
To do things
With ease.

Am struggling
To complete
Simplest of tasks.

As I move
Through life
Like a zombie.

High anxiety levels 
With sleep deprivation
On the busiest day
Of the month.

Month end.

To face crowds
In the malls
And public transit.

In the trenches
With my mental
And physical illnesses
For the bare necessity
Of life.

Hunger will exist
For the cats
And I.

As I launch 
Multiple small scale
Guerrilla raids.

My body lets me
Upon the targeted 
And small stores.

Allowing myself
Several grace days
For objective

For another month
My tortured ordeal
Of grocery shopping.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: This month marks the 9th anniversary of my most severe panic attack, which lasted over 26 hours, before I was granted lease, from it. Since then, any situation that I find myself, surrounded by people, acts as a trigger, for anxiety attacks, and if I find myself, in a prolong exposure situation, the anxiety attack, becomes a full out panic attack. Something, I never want to experience, again, having survived 2 major panic attacks and several episodes of dissociation, during this period of time. 

Saturday, 27 August 2016

Only If.... (September 4, 2012)

School year
Is starting up
And I find myself
Looking backwards.

What if 
I had gone
To my senior prom.

Whom I am
A girl
Dressed in
A formal dress.

"Forever young"
Is played
As the last song.

This isn't
The reality
Of what happen.

I stayed home
Between perception
And reality.

Having to wear
To a suit
If I wished
To attend.

As well been
Wearing a straitjacket
Is how I feel
About having to
Wear a suit.


Therisa © 2012

Author's note: During the 1980's, HIV/AIDS was emerging, in the general public, as a dead disease that killed many members of the LGBT+ community. As a teenager, struggling with gender identity, in this time period, there was no resources available to me, like there is, today. I felt totally isolated and a freak, for feeling trapped, in the wrong body, despite, what everyone else told me, contrary to my thoughts. In the Ontario school systems, there was no mention of being trans or bisexual, for Phy. Ed teachers, only mentioned gay and lesbians, during the health unit, along with various methods of birth control. Sadly, when they did mention the gays/lesbians, they did so, uneasy, making cruel comments and jokes, about them. 

Maybe, some day, I will be able to have my prom moment, and not feel shamed, for wanting to express my inner self, to the world. Until then, I can only dream, what that night have been like, for me.

Welcome To My Relativity (August 27, 2016)

Not sure
Why my eyes
Are tearing up
Right now.

As I feel 
The tears
Begging for release.

Anyone suggests
It's because 
Of my hormone levels.

You must know
I haven't been taking
Any estrogen 
(In any form)
For the past 2 years.

Even though
My estrogen levels
Are totally female
On my last test
In late April.
My baseline test
Described me
As a teenager
Having a period.

The reality
Of having 
A thirty-something 

I have never asked
For a genetic test
To prove 
Whether or not
I'm Intersex.

Of course
The $1 000 cost
(At the time)
For the genetic test.

I would pay
If the test
Came back
As male.

May have 
To do
With my decision.

I know
My soul is 
Eternally female.

Of what 
Tells me.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Sigh.

Friday, 26 August 2016

Cost Of A Day Out (August 26, 2016)

I must pay
For a day
On the town.

By crowds 
Of people.

A hot and humid
Summer's day
In the city.

Taking in
One final dash
Of Summer
Before Fall's arrival.

As the subway 
Is packed
With young families
For a fun day
At the "X"
(Canadian National Exhibition).

The afternoon rush hour
Is mixed
With commuters
Heading home.

And baseball fans
Convening on
The Roger's Center.

Hoping for
A Blue Jay victory
Over the visiting Angels.

To lost

As my soul
Is slowly drained
Leaving me

To curl up 
And hide away
From society
For the next 2 days.

My body's batteries
Are recharged.

The toll extracted
I'm surrounded
By crowds.

My introverted 
Anxious soul.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Yesterday, I had an appointment with my therapy, during the afternoon, and thought, I would visit a close friend, on the way, back home. Never expecting the visit would last later than 11 pm, when I got home, to my apartment, after seeing the film, Suicide Squad. Originally, I thought, the visit would last, until the downtown rush, would be over, for the Jays/Angels game, at the Roger Center. As the film,I felt the various film characters were underwritten or the actors portrayed them, in the way, they are written, in the comic book, which the film is based upon. 

Saturday, 20 August 2016

The Road To Hell..... (August 15, 2016)

I know 
You thought
Your actions were
In the best interest
For me.

Never realizing
The damage
You're doing.

With your lies
To both
Of us.

And yet
When I confront you
With your actions.

You react like
I am attacking you
With my words.

How I will react
To your tears
Blaming myself
For hurting you.

By sugarcoating
Traumatic events
That happened
Around us.

As if
I'm a delicate flower
That'll disintegrated 
At the slightest pressure.

Do you realize
How much
I want to scream
At you:


Do not.

You'll never understand
My reasons.

And you wonder
Why I don't come
To you
With my troubles.

It's the last resort

Having experienced
Several decades
Of your smothering love.

Treating me
Like a 4 year old child
Who had her mouth
Wide open
From electrical burns.

That little girl is
All grown up
And has left home

Therisa © 2016

This Corrosion (October 4, 2012)

Your taint
Coursing through
My body.

My soul

Self-hatred is
The norm
Not the exception.

Seeing myself
As a monster
To others.

Punches and kicks
Turn my body 
Black and blue.

My soul
Whithers away
Upon the caustic
Verbal attacks.

Only a shell
Which you see
Before you

Full of shame
And despair
About myself.

Therisa © 2012

Author's note: An older darker poem, about my self-hatred and self-loathing, generated from a long history of abuse.

Tuesday, 16 August 2016

Just Another Tuesday Afternoon (August 16, 2016)

Can feel
My soul begin
The slow process
Of cycling 
Through my emotions.

As if
I stuck
In a viscous pool
Of molasses
Up to my neck.

From a position
Of 5 steps 
Below equilibrium
Into a swan dive
Of 7 steps

(Never able
To move 
Near equilibrium
From the depression side
Of the line.

(Even with
Various anti-depressant 
Over the years.)

Any new medication.

I am placed
In a round 
Padded room.

A white canvas jacket
With long sleeves
That tighten
Behind my back.)

A second thought
My left hand moves
Towards the eyes.

To wipe away 
(Phantom) tears
(This time)
I have been shedding
On a constant basis
Over my lifetime.

As my eyes
Feel like
They're constantly

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Wish I could say, this is an aberration of my daily life, but sadly, too many days are like this, for me, especially, during my semi-annual bouts of depression that strike me. 

Yesterday (August 15, 2016), my nurse practitioner and I, talked about sleep apnea and the possibility that I may have it, given all of the warning signs, I have. She suggested I get tested, with a sleep study, at one of the major teaching hospitals, here, in Toronto. Now, I have to wait one-two months, before the study happens overnight, at the hospital, and see, what the report says, about my sleep patterns.

Sunday, 14 August 2016

The Urge To Purge (August 14, 2016)

As I look
My body over
An anger fills me.

At the cruel twist
Of fate.

I have been forced
To endure
Over my lifetime.

I'm trapped
Within the wrong gender
And powerless
To change it.

Even though
Modern medicine 
Has advance
To the point.

Of giving me
A feminine appearing

Stopping short
Of a truly feminine body
Able to give birth
With a female reproductive

The very thoughts
That would end
My life.

Permanently removing
My male genitalia.

As these depressive thoughts
To overwhelm me
With the need 
To act out

And make this
My new reality.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Wish, I could say, these feeling of self hatred towards my biological body, weren't so intense, that I want to self-harm myself, in correcting the disconnect, between the physical image that I present to the world, and the mental image, i have, of myself. And yes, like my chronic depression, these thoughts of self-harming are cyclical, in nature. Never aware, when they will arise and overcome me. 

To date, I have manage to contain these thoughts, but do know, the day will come, when I will be powerless to stop them, from happening. I have told my medical team, about these thoughts, and they're monitoring me, to see, if they get any worse.

Saturday, 6 August 2016

Intolerance (August 6, 2016)

Why do you seek
To force me
Into your beliefs?

Full well
My steadfast
Refusal of them.

As if
My rejection
Is spurning you
In this pursuit
Of madness.

Does not
Several decades
Of "No"
Mean anything
To you?

In pushing me
Ever further
From your side.

By creating
An insurmountable divide
Between us
That only death
Can bridge.

I ask this
As your time is nigh
And won't  be there
For your final breathe
Or funeral.

You'll never change
Before Death's embrace

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Reflections on, part of my therapy session, I had, earlier this week (August 3, 2016), how my mom has refuse to accept the boundaries, I have placed around religious observation, in regards, to attending a Christian church. Never mind, her narrow mindedness, and the irrational fear that grips her, towards my transitioning, into her daughter, from a son.

Friday, 5 August 2016

Causes Of The Storm (August 5, 2016)

That pierces
One's soul
To the core.

Draws me
Ever deeper
Into darkness.

Tears cascading
From my red eyes.

As the words
Dry up
One letter
At a time.

Leaving behind
A shivered 
And burnt out

To describe
In words.

The emotional
Roller coaster
Am stuck on
With no release.

Moods swing
From one extreme
To another.

Covering me
In a literal black cloud
That never lifts.

Even after 
The latest bout
Of depression does.

From a lifetime
Of self-suppression
And self-hatred
From an abusive past.

To keep quiet 
About this
By mom

Did so
As a dutiful child
'til my mid-30.

My psychic walls 
To mental dust.

A 26 hour 
Panic attack.

The past 9 years
Been crawling out
Of my own personal Hell.

As wave
After wave 
Of repressed memories
Are reawaken
In me.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Since November 1974, I have been dealing with PTSD symptoms, after I was electrically burnt, around my mouth, on both sides. Having endured numerous surgeries, to repair the damage done, over the years. Every time, I look, into a mirror, I see traces of the scar tissue, on my right side of my mouth, and have to be, very careful, when eating food, otherwise, I will/have bitten into the scar tissue that lines, both sides of my mouth, with live nerve endings. Even now, almost 42 years later, I still have flashbacks (visual and sensory) of that night, which I have trouble, using a lighter, as the flame, is a trigger, for me.

The following year, I started kindergarten, and my life, when to Hell, literally, as my decade + of schoolyard bullying, began. Ending, at the end of grade 10, when I transferred, to another local high school, in Brampton, Ontario. Still have trouble talking or writing, about this period, in my life. It was, during this period, before the age of 12, I attempted my first suicide. By my twelve birthday, I would make 2 more attempts, on my life, all of them failing, for various reasons, which I won't talk about, right now.

As for my family life, I wish I could erase almost all of my memories, especially those, which revolve around my younger brother. For my earliest memory of him, is the two of us, fighting, at his integration. Wish, I could say, he grew out of this need to hurt me, but I would be lying, to myself and those, who are reading this. As I written, in previous posting, like my "Letters Never Sent" blogs, which are letters, written to my younger self, about a particular time, in my life. My only enter, so far, deals with the summer of 1985, and the Hell, he created for my mom and I. Must warn any who read it, about the graphic violence and abuse, I describe, in it. And yes, Timothy, is my birth name (an Anglicized version of it), given to me, by my parents, in honour, of one of dad's brothers, who choked to death, during an asthmatic attack, in my aunt's arms. 

Wednesday, 3 August 2016

Prayer For Strength (August 3, 2016)

I ask You
Most humbly
To grant me
The necessary power.

In dealing with
This darkness
That stains
My soul.

To resist
The temptation
Of accepting
Death's offer
For the last dance

To bring forth
My soul
Into the light
Once more.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: For as long as, I can remember, I have never felt comfortable, inside of a Christian church, like I was trespassing. In one particular church, in southern Ontario, I felt like, I was walking over graves. Not sure, if this is, the by-product of my hyper-sensitivity to others, my heighten empathetic nature, or, the previous experiences, I have lived, in past lives. Please understand, I have nothing against those, who follow Jesus's teaching, but some have used their spiritual believes, to attack and condemn me, to Hell. Trust me, I have spent time, in Hell, and its not a place, I would wish on anyone.

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