By Any Means (August 31, 2016)

Each passing second

My mind drifts

Ever so

Further away.

As my ability

To concentrate

On anything

Fades.

Once

Was able 

To do things

With ease.

Now

Am struggling

To complete

Simplest of tasks.

As I move

Through life

Like a zombie.

Intermixing

High anxiety levels 

With sleep deprivation

On the busiest day

Of the month.

Month end.

Forced

To face crowds

In the malls

And public transit.

Fighting

In the trenches

With my mental

And physical illnesses

For the bare necessity

Of life.

Knowing

Otherwise

Hunger will exist

For the cats

And I.

As I launch 

Multiple small scale

Guerrilla raids.

Whenever

My body lets me

Upon the targeted 

Supermarkets

And small stores.

Allowing myself

Several grace days

For objective

Completion.

Thus

Ending

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. 

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

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

Wondering
What if 
I had gone
To my senior prom.

As
Whom I am
A girl
Dressed in
A formal dress.

While
Alphaville's
"Forever young"
Is played
As the last song.

Alas
This isn't
The reality
Of what happen.

Instead
I stayed home
Conflicted
Between perception
And reality.

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

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

Sigh.

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.

Before

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.

(Despite

The reality

Of having 

A thirty-something 

Body.)

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 

Something

To do

With my decision.

Still

I know

My soul is 

Eternally female.

Regardless

Of what 

Anybody 

Tells me.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Sigh.

Cost Of A Day Out (August 26, 2016)

Price

I must pay

For a day

On the town.

Surrounded

By crowds 

Of people.

Enjoying

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).

Later

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.

Only 

To lost

6-3.

As my soul

Is slowly drained

Leaving me

Exhausted.

Wanting

To curl up 

And hide away

From society

For the next 2 days.

Until 

My body's batteries

Are recharged.

The toll extracted

Whenever

I'm surrounded

By crowds.

Upon 

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. 

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

Physically

With my words.

Knowing

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:

"STOP 

TREATING ME

LIKE THIS!"

But

Do not.

Knowing

You'll never understand

My reasons.

And you wonder

Why I don't come

To you

With my troubles.

Unless

It's the last resort

Available 

Mom.

Having experienced

Several decades

Of your smothering love.

Treating me

Like a 4 year old child

Who had her mouth

Blown

Wide open

From electrical burns.

Well

That little girl is

All grown up

And has left home

Permanently

Mom.

Therisa © 2016

This Corrosion (October 4, 2012)

Feel
Your taint
Coursing through
My body.

Poisoning
My soul
Throughout.

Where
Self-hatred is
The norm
Not the exception.

In
Seeing myself
As a monster
To others.

As
Punches and kicks
Turn my body 
Black and blue.

While
My soul
Whithers away
Upon the caustic
Verbal attacks.

Until
Only a shell
Which you see
Before you
Remains.

Feeling
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.

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.

Dropping

From a position

Of 5 steps 

Below equilibrium

Into a swan dive

Of 7 steps

Lower.

(Never able

To move 

Beyond 

Near equilibrium

From the depression side

Of the line.

(Even with

Various anti-depressant 

Cocktails

Over the years.)

Refusing 

Any new medication.

(Unless

I am placed

In a round 

Padded room.

(Wearing

A white canvas jacket

With long sleeves

That tighten

Behind my back.)

Without 

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

Crying.

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.

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.

Knowing

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

Body.

Stopping short

Of a truly feminine body

Able to give birth

With a female reproductive

System.

Fighting

The very thoughts

That would end

My life.

By 

Permanently removing

My male genitalia.

As these depressive thoughts

Threaten

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.

Intolerance (August 6, 2016)

Why do you seek

To force me

Into your beliefs?

Knowing

Full well

My steadfast

Refusal of them.

As if

My rejection

Is spurning you

Forward

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.

Knowing

You'll never change

Before Death's embrace

Mom.

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.

Causes Of The Storm (August 5, 2016)

Cold

That pierces

One's soul

To the core.

Draws me

Ever deeper

Into darkness.

Tears cascading

Downwards

From my red eyes.

As the words

Dry up

One letter

At a time.

Leaving behind

A shivered 

And burnt out

Soul.

Struggling

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.

Told

To keep quiet 

About this

By mom

Did so

As a dutiful child

'til my mid-30.

When 

My psychic walls 

Collapsed

To mental dust.

During

A 26 hour 

Panic attack.

Thus

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. 

Prayer For Strength (August 3, 2016)

Goddess

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

Together.

To bring forth

My soul

Back

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.