539: Anguish

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

A gambler


412: Quasimodo in Female Form

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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.