Just Being Me (June 7, 2018)

Throughout the years

You've been my anchor

That's held me

Upright.

During those stormy nights

My body awashed

Against the rocky shores

Of life.

When Death stood

By my side

A constant companion

During the dark years.

Where gender identity

Is a littered battleground

With too many bodies stolen

Before their time.

As baby blue

And passionate pink tears

Flow together

In a bitter white stream.

Want to scream

At the top of my voice

“Fuck you assholes"

To all of society.

But know

Society will never understand

My anger and hurt

I'm releasing.

A body trapped

Between two genders

Never fully one

Or the other.

And yet

You've been

The one

I've sought out.

Knowing

The crippling barriers

Society has erected

Against someone

Like myself.

In transitioning

Like a butterfly

From the cocoon

Of my male pupa.

Therisa © 2018

Author's note: I would like to remind everyone that the “T” in LGBTQ+, stands for transgender, which many people forget. When they talk about issues that affects the entire community, a whole. As if, we’re the forgotten sibling, when talking about equality for all members of the LGBTQ+ community. Please remember this, as your local community celebrates PRIDE.

Reclaiming My Soul (April 6, 2017)

Peace.

A five letter word

Am struggling

To come to terms

With.

In feeling

The bottled anger

Thrusting up

Against my self-imposed

Mental barriers

For most of my life.

Blaming myself

For the abuse/bullying

In not being

Good enough

To protect me.

As the physical

And verbal blows

Rain down

On my body

And soul.

Internalizing

Those negative words

Within my inner critic's voice

Attacking myself

Years later.

As I battle

Self-doubt

And low self-esteem

In isolating myself

From others.

Even now

It's a struggle

I fight

On a daily basis.

Knowing

It's one of my pillars

Of my soulscape

I have to rebuild

For true healing

And inner peace.

Therisa © 2017

Author's note: For more years, than I can remember, I have been struggling, to find that balance, which will give me, true inner peace. Having hit such depths, that I have spent the better part of 3 years, constantly suicidal, as a teenager, without telling anyone of my struggle, during my last years of high school, until decades, afterward.  Even now, on a daily basis, I have suicidal thoughts, in my mind, depending on the severity of my depression, are mostly static background noise, I am able to ignore. And yes, my medical team, is aware of this, as I have shared this, with them. It's one of the questions, I get asked, whenever, I see my nurse practitioner. Along with, how do I rate my level of depression, on a scale of 0-10, 0 being depression free, and 10: having attempted to commit suicide. 

For I have never reached true equilibrium, that balance point, between being manic and depressed, in my life. Even during the time that I was taking a cocktail of several anti-depressants, and suffering in silence, as my body rebelled against them, with constant side effects, which made my life, a constant living Hell. Ranging from constant migraine headaches, from two different drugs to bloating, gaseous and severe cramping, from another drug (only thing missing from my constant period, was the blood on my panty). Worse, several of these medications used a form of sugar, as their delivery vehicle, into the body. Part of the reason, why many people with depression, have a higher than normal rate of type II diabetes.

An Ending (August 8, 2013)

Never

Sexually assaulted

By you.

But

Your actions
Raped my mind
And soul.

In destroying
A child

Filled with hope

And Dreams.

As my tears

Forms a noose

Around my neck.

Each new tear

Adds an additional loop

Until thirteen is reach

And tightened.

As the trap door

Opens.

Therisa © 2013

Author's note: Originally posted, on a peer support PTSD site, as part of my trauma diary, here. This poem deals, with the summer of 1985, and the violence that I experienced, at the hands of my younger brother, and I feel towards myself, about it.

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.