A Lantern Darken (May 1, 2017)

Ignorance 

Disguised

As knowledge.

Irrational

Becomes rational.

As the pain deepen

Into unchartered waters

Of the mind.

Returning

Once more

To the darkness.

Therisa © 2017

Author's note: Yesterday (April 30, 2017), a couple of comments were made, on a poem, I shared with others. Comments that charitably can only, be described, as ignorance talking, where knowledge is lacking, in the sensitivity, of the matter at hand. This is my reply back, to them.

Random Thoughts (November 28, 2011)

Sigh.

Silence

Calm before

The storm.

Time

Becomes

A measureless

Construct.

Pleasure

Brief interruption

In a meaningless

World.

Sleep

Oblivion

From reality.

Food

Method of delivery

For legal toxins

Into the body.

Death

Another gateway

For life.

Therisa © 2011

Author's note: Another blast from my poetic morgue.

Gathering Of The Clan (April 19, 2017)

Don't know

When life changed

For me.

As the holidays

Became 

A chore to endure

And not enjoy.

Of the fights

Both physical

And verbal.

I lost

With my dad

Via a spanking.

In visiting

Oma and opa

For the high holiday feasts

At their small rural bungalow

In Dunneville, Ontario.

Packed 

To the gills

With dad's family

Far and wide.

Solitude

Only a scream away

From shattering

As children run around

Bubbling with excitement.

Seeking refuge

Wherever possible

In my constant companion

A book.

Unable to explain

Why I felt

So uncomfortable

With my extended family.

Not yet

Did I have

The proper words

To do so.

Only now

Do I know

It was anxiety

I was experiencing.

In my family

You only missed 

These gatherings.

If you were 

Physically sick

Lived out of province

Or dead.

To my dad

I was

None of the above.

But 

A spoiled brat

Acting out.

Further hiding

My true emotions.

As I suffered

In silence

By avoiding

Any future punishment.

Therisa © 2017

Author's note: I think, but not sure, I was 12 years old, when I started acting out. Can remember, I hate my dad, during this time, wanting nothing to do, with the family gatherings. Especially, the religious overtones of these days, I have never felt comfortable with, given the conservative nature, of some of my family members. 

For the record, I do not consider myself, a Christian, although I was baptized, as an infant. To be a Christian, I have to accept, that Jesus is, the Son of God, and not a mere mortal, who was killed for political reasons, by the ruling elite, in Judea, for challenging their religious and social hold, over Jewish society, back then.

Winkte* (April 18, 2017)

Both feet

Firmly anchored

In the gender divide

Expressing ourselves

Who we are.

To some

We're seen

As an abomination

Or worse.

Meant 

To be destroyed

With extreme prejudice

No question asked.

Like the national 

Past time

Of (ice) hockey

Or lacrosse.

Ignoring

The very facts

Before them.

We're human

Too.

Only wanting

To live our lives

In peace

As women.

Therisa © 2017

Author's note: *Winkte (also spelled wíŋtke) is the contraction of an old Lakota word, Winyanktehca, meaning "wants to be like a woman." Winkte is a social category in Lakota culture, of male-bodied people who adopt the clothing, work, and mannerisms that Lakota culture usually considered feminine. (http;//en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Winkte)

Although my ethnic heritage is, of European descent, I find myself, identifying with Canada's First Nations, and their struggle to claim their culture and heritage, which has been brutally stripped away, over the past 500 + years. Especially, with the reemergence of "Two Spirit", within their culture and society, as a whole, as part of the healing process, in ending the genocide, waged against them, by the "Crown" and other agents, for the government and people of Canada.

As we walk, our journey of healing, together, as one people.  Brothers and sisters, learning to love ourselves, once more.

A Fool's Dream? (April 17, 2017)

Am I

Insane?

Knowing

I can never be

Fully

A woman.

Doomed

By genetics.

Regardless

How many times

A surgeon's scalpel

May be used.

Or

Hormones taken

And suppressed.

One can't create

A silk purse

Out of a sow's ear.

And yet

I try.

Hoping

This fantasy

Becomes reality.

One day.

Therisa © 2017

One Size Fits All (April 14, 2017)

You don't see me

As I struggle.

Swimming

Against the stream

I must follow

Like a spawning Salmon

For my education.

.

Trying to fit

My square peg

Into your circular hole

Without destroying

Myself.

The nightly tears

Of frustration

And anger.

Of a blank page

Before me

To be marked

With red ink.

Your snide comments

Calling me:

"Lazy

Needs to apply

Their self

To the task

At hand."

Working harder

Then the other students

To finish 

The assigned work.

Feeling betrayed

At the year end

Report card.

Bitter tears flowing

Upon seeing

Failure

For having

A learning disability.

Therisa © 2017

Author's note: In June 1977, my grade one teacher failed me, as a result of my various learning disabilities. Along with, 6 other students, in my class. Needless to say, her contract wasn't renewed, for the following year, by the local school board. Throughout my academic career, I have been, in and out, of special educational classes, due to various reasons (learning disabilities to the gifted program).

In Ontario, under provincial law, a school (whether, at the elementary or secondary level) can reject a transferring student's request for support, although, they have documented evidence when transferring, within the same school board. Regardless, of the fact, the learning assessment, was paid for, by the taxpayers of that same board. Never mind, if they are coming, from another school board. 

The Poison Game (April 13, 2017)

I know

Within my mind

I'm not responsible

For the abuse/bullying

I have experienced.

And yet

There's a part

That does.

Being pulled

In so many 

Different directions

I don't understand.

As various layers

of guilt

Built up

Around my soul

Is slowly

Stripped away.

Holding back

The tears

In my ducts

Can't help

But think

How things 

Could've been different.

If I was born

Cisgender

Instead of trans.

A question

I'll never have

An answer for.

Therisa © 2017

Author's note: Sigh. For the past month, or so, I have been dealing, with a renewal bout of my depression. In that, I have been isolating myself, to the point of becoming agoraphobic, again. In real life, and on the Internet, Struggling, in finding ways, to express this darkening of my soul, in a positive way, that would prevent me, from falling into the trap of self-pitying myself. Having done enough of that, over the years.

Refuge (April 12, 2017)

Release from reality

Escaping abuse/bullying

Finding new heroes

Unlocking the past

Growing as a person

Emitting light from darkness.

Therisa © 2017

Author's note: It started with The Hardy Boys, and grew from there, my love affair with books and the printed word. Many, a night, were lost to a book, as I had to finish it, before, being able to turn off the lights and let sleep claim me. 

Cracking Of Eggshells (April 9, 2017)

The black ink

Lays on the page

Like dried blood

Before me.

Clotting up

A long opened wound

Hemorrhaging 

From long suppressed

Memories.

Within my soul

A consuming fire burn

So bright

Promising

To devour me

With an angry rage.

Tears 

Unleashed

Like a tsunami

Threatening

To drown my soul.

The sluice gates

Open up

Wide

From the levee.

Blowing across

My soulscape

Winds of self-condemnation

Telling me

I'm a FAILURE.

A so tired

Of this constant struggle

Just want to rest

And let the pain go.

Sigh.

Therisa © 2017

Author's note: Been having a very rough period, for the past 3 days, with very negative emotions and very low self-worth, as I have been isolating myself, from the world, real time and cyber-wise. I know, isolating myself, is wrong, but I don't feel strong enough, to walk, outside of my apartment, right now.

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.