Dear Cousin (A Poetic Letter (April 11, 2019)

Dear Cousin;

My belated condolences

For Uncle J’s death (your dad)

In December 2018.

I know

A lot has changed

Since our last meeting

Celebrating 50 years

As a Canadian family

In June 2002.

Many of our cousins

Have either married

Had children

And/Or divorced.

In my case

I’ve learned things

Radically changing

My existence

As a person.

Through many pain filled

And harsh brutal nights

With PTSD flashback dreams

Of repressed memories.

I realize

I’m an abuse/bullying survivor.

And no

These memories weren’t

The by-product

Of a therapist induced creation.

Rather

My mental dykes collapsed

After a brutal 26 hour long

Panic attack

In August 2007.

Remember

How you and other cousins

Were ribbing me

About my dramatic weight gain

At the reunion?

One of the side-effects

From my chronic battle

With depression.

Intertwined

With anxiety disorders

Agoraphobia PTSD

And gender dysphoria.

I am transitioning

From male to female.

Don’t know

If my mom has shared

With the rest of family

As we’re not talking

To each other.

There is

So much more

That I want to share

With you.

But realize

I need to stop here

And let you digest

This information dump

I’ve given you.

Sadden

I understand

If I never hear back

From you.

Sincerely, your cousin,

Therisa (formerly T------)

Therisa © 2019

Author’s note: Last month, during a random search on my family, I discovered one of my
uncles had past away, on December 30, 2018. I spent the 1985 Canada Day long weekend
with him and his family, when dad had his first known heart attack. The remainder of the
1985 summer, was a trip through Hell, for me. As my younger brother attacked physically,
emotionally, and mentally, my mom and I. Just have to close my eyes, I can physically hear
and feel him, attacking us.

I want to send this poem to my cousin, the eldest son of my late uncle, but am scared of
him, rejecting me, as well.

Days Of Darkness (May 16, 2016)

The late Spring Sun

Spills over

Toronto

Bathing it

In its brightness

And promised warmth.

And yet

For some

Like myself.

It harkens

Another day

Of inner darkness

And battle

With mental illness.

Wanting

To leave behind

This cavernous hole

That I find myself

Hiding in.

Each step

Towards 

The entrance's lip

My levels of dread

And anxiety

Rises.

Nailing me

To the spot

Just short

Of my apartment door.

As if

Another crippling bout

Of agoraphobia

Is preparing

To strike.

It's fangs

Deep

Into me.

Memories

Still fresh

Of the last bout

That lasted

The Summer of 2014.

Fearing

A command performance

As a virtual prisoner

Trapped.

Within

The mental walls

Of my mind

For another prolong

Run.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Can feel myself, slipping away, into an agoraphobic Hell, once more. As, it's getting harder, to stay out of my apartment and not be triggered, by other people, when outside of it.