Soul deep sadness, restless spirit
Toss and turn, wakeful
Burning red-orange brands
Searing the psyche with bleak hopelessness.
Why now, at this late date
Am I hoping I will find that which I have sought from the time I knew it was missing?
I have been wrong before.
The odds are not good.
I have ever been
Some days, that’s me. Some days, that’s you (female or not). Sometimes we all fall off the normal cliff, straight into crazy.
What triggers that Hulkish transformation varies person-to-person. My trigger is probably not your trigger. I know myself well enough to realize that I have more than one trigger. You probably do, too.
We all like to think we are rational, logical, considerate people. Yeah, right. On a good day, maybe.
There are some parts of my own psyche that I keep crammed down deep into a box in a private corner of my personality, with three triple-locked chains wrapped tightly around the box. I am always horribly upset at myself every single time that box gets opened, whether it is opened by me, or by someone else pulling one of my triggers. I don’t like those parts of myself. Those are not the parts I look at in the mirror. Those are not the parts I list on my resume, under the category of “strengths.” But…
Those parts are still me, until I can conquer them and get them under my conscious control, and even then, they are still part of me…even then. That explains the triple-locked chains. I am working on it.
I can only hope you are working on yours.