Showing posts with label Living with PTSD. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Living with PTSD. Show all posts

Wednesday, 13 September 2023

The Storm (September 13, 2023)

 

Gently the mist

Caresses my face

Wiping tears away

As I look up.


Knowing

The skies will blacken 

Before clearing up

Like my soul. 


On the horizon 

Gathering storm clouds 

Block out the light. 


Sinking

Ever deeper

Into myself.


As the wind howls

Transforming mist

To a soul destroying rain.


Carving channels

Visible to the naked eye

Across my soulscape.


Watching 

In real time

The land disappear

Underneath me.


Tumbling

I struggle to tell 

Up from down 

In this surry.


Time

Becomes meaningless

Beyond the next breath.


Until nothing

Only silence

As I laid awake

In my bed.


Realizing

Had just endured

A night terror.


Author's note: About the 4th day of this, I realized that I had intertwine least 2 different poems. So last night, I deleted all, but the first 3 stanzas. The things that we do for art (like no sleep).


Posted to http://newwhatsgoningon.blogspot.com

 


Tuesday, 9 July 2019

Awakening Old Dæmons (July 6, 2019)

They're back 
My night terrors. 

In a burning room
Fire dances 
Before me.

Seductively 
Flames sway
Suffocating my body. 

Awakened
Body - locked down mode
Sporadic muscles twitching.

Otherwise 
My leaden body 
Is normal.

By-product 
Childhood electrical burn
Around my mouth. 

Don't understand 
Why now? 

Thought 
Had settled
This old PTSD trauma.

Given distance 
Between recent events
Of several years. 

I was wrong.

As sleep becomes
A feared time 
Once more. 

Therisa © 2019

Author’s note: This November will mark the 45th anniversary of the electrical scars,
around my mouth, both inside and outside of it. Have been told, I’m lucky to be alive, after
describing the events on that 1974 November night. I don’t remember the exact date, but
other details are burnt into my memory. 

My dad was working the afternoon shift, for the regional natural company, as a special
gas fitter. My brother had just turned 2 years old, the previous month. Mom was upstairs,
on the main floor of the bungalow, doing what, I don’t know. I was downstairs in the
basement, watching an old TV set, with the space heater plugged in. Feeling too hot, I
tried to unplug the heater, but failed. Instead of asking for help, from mom, I used my
teeth, to get a grip on the heater cord and the extension cord. Never realizing the danger that I was placing myself in, by doing so. 

Long story short, I ran upstairs, my mouth blown open from the electrical current that
travelled through me. Vividly remember, mom panicking, upon seeing my ruined face.
Calling our next store neighbour, the O’Connors, for guidance, where she should take
me, for emergency treatment, living in a small rural Ontario village, where the nearest
hospital was 30 minute drive, in good weather.

I remember mom placing me in the backseat, as she drove to Guelph’s St Joachim
Hospital ER, where I was placed on a hallway bed, as my face was examined by
the ER doctors. I don’t remember anything else, from that November night, except I,
now scared of open flames and sudden ignition of fire, when having to lit the pilot
flame on the family barbecue or gas stove.

Tuesday, 16 April 2019

This Is My Life (April 16, 2019)


Distance memories
From a time
Long ago.

Virtual images
Flashing by
Without thought
Or reason.

Just is.

A moment-best forgotten
In time’s distant place
Within one’s mind.

Emotions
Openly displayed
Unconsciously
To the wider world.

Vulnerability
Hidden behind
Mental constructs
Until understood.

Reclaiming
What was stolen
In one’s soul.

One second
At a time.

Fixing corrupted files
Too long ignored
Due to pain and suffering.

Open emotional displays
Are frowned upon
Personal flaw
In one’s soul..

As if
Breaking societal taboo
By doing so
In such manner.

Much like
The invisible circle
Keep around you.

Scared
You’ll infected them
With these struggles.

Sadly
The monsters and stigmas
Are all too real
Despite protesting denials
And silent suffering.

Just ask those
Who loved ones
Have taken
Their own lives
Or have attempted to.

Therisa © 2019

Author’s note: In an Ontario study, a person identifying, as LGBTQ+, has double the risk of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) then the heterosexual community does. (https://ontario.cmha.ca/documents/lesbian-gay-bisexual-trans-queer-identified-people-and-mental-health/)

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