PTSD

darnold1975

Safe Place (Poetry)

Safe Place
A place that has no hurt and no pain
A place where I can go without emotional rain.
A place where the sun shines all day long
A place that could easily become a home

A place where I can hide from things that are bad
A place where I can go and never be sad.
A place where I run to where the monsters can’t see
A place that allows me to be me.

A place where I go when I’m not wearing masks
A place that I go and no one else asks
A place where I can go for my own soul’s sake
A place where I go that’s always safe.

#thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

The Wooden Door (Poetry)

The Wooden Door

You met me as an innocent child
If only for a little while
But even a little was too much
Because behind you is where I learned the meaning of
The word…. crutch.

Twist and turn my mind you did
Until that kid ran and hid
But you awakened that angry child
The one who would live life running wild.

Behind you is where the secrets lived
Because I couldn’t hang around to see what you did
She protected me from things I didn’t want to know
She took all the pain and it would show.

Red, purple and eventually white
That’s the colors of her painful stripes
Your evil would once again score
All behind that wooden door.
#thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Cunning, Baffling and Extremely Powerful

Cunning, Baffling and Extremely Powerful

“Addiction is committing suicide on the installment plan.”
–Anonymous

In the year 2019, I feel confident in saying that most people and families have been affected by addiction in some way. Whether it be a family member, close friends or possible yourself who has been touched in one way or another by this terrible and very progressive disease. Personally, I’ve seen addiction run through the lives of many families and individuals leaving a path of destruction that Hurricane Katrina herself couldn’t hold a candle against. And addictions of various kind continue to devastate both my mind and body.

Often people relate addiction to only chemicals be it drugs or alcohol. A lot of times it is the assumption that physical dependence compounded by withdrawal symptoms is required for someone to be diagnosed with an addiction disorder. With chemical addiction this is true. In behavioral addictions i.e. gambling, sex, shopping, internet, self-harm, workaholism, etc. the behavior also progresses until negative consequences occur as well. Specific process addictions, in my life, are anorexia, bulimia and self-harm. I’m sure there are others but currently these are my biggest and most destructive. Where the mentioned behaviors are and have been a problem since childhood.

the abyss

Education about addictions, in general, has come quite far from the days of the Temperance Movement specifically due to alcohol consumption of the early 19th century. Stigmas have lessened since then. However, process addictions still have a pretty heavy stigma attached to them due to pure ignorance. One of the things that I do that keeps me sick in my disease is my uncanny ability to minimize any and all addictive behaviors that I engage in. I can tell that I have nerve damage in my forearms from 30+ years of cutting them with razor blades. My left shoulder has nerve damage from a self-inflicted gunshot wound several years ago. My internal systems have no telling what wrong with them from all the years of purging and heavy restricting by starving my body and ridding it of food.
Other behaviors that are considered an addiction for me are shopping, huffing chemicals and using belts to play “The Choking Game” until I pass out. All the addictions mentioned are ones that can individually kill me at any point. I will minimize them to justify to myself another reason to do it again just like any drug addict or alcoholic. I will come up with any reason to engage in these behaviors just to be able to get through a moment of uncomfortable feelings. I truly do my best trying to cope with all these things, but coach won’t let me slide unlike my internal addict that justifies yet another reason to keep going.

I have struggled many years and have kept my addiction alive. No matter the reason, there is always at time and a number that has my name written on it when it will be my last. It’s almost like dodging bullets knowing that one has your name on it. I wish I had a healthy fear of these behaviors, but I don’t. I fear the uncomfortable feelings and visions more than I fear dying from addiction. Each day I pray and yearn for the day that I’ll be able to live life without such horrible feelings. Who knows? Maybe the life I have dreams about being a part of could one day be possible if I would just get out of my own way.

“Every habit he’s ever had is still there in his body, lying dormant like flowers in the desert.”
—-Margaret Atwood

#thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Her Winds Still Blow

Her Winds Still Blow

“You can take the people out of the city, but you can’t take the soul — that remains here.”
― T.J. Fisher, Orleans Embrace with The Secret Gardens of the Vieux Carré

As the official opening day of hurricane season June 1st every year, I can’t help but to remember the wide path of destruction left by Hurricane Katrina on August 29, 2005. Anyone who went through that storm, no matter the location has my deepest sympathies. I also went through that storm and not a day goes by that I don’t remember how scared and awestruck I was at the devastation. Last night I was awakened by a horrible nightmare complete with an ass kicking migraine. I woke up with nausea and last night’s meal gurgling in my stomach. I was also chilled by the sweat on my brow and clothing attempting to dry.
I couldn’t help that I had just had a nightmare, but the vividness of the dream was one that startled me. Hurricane Katrina happened before Mel and I met. I was still married to my ex-husband at the time. And I also can remember my nannie still being her good ole grouchy self. We had a gas grill and each other and that was about all we needed unless you counted the need for air-conditioning. I’m a spoiled kid of the 1980’s and I grew up with air conditioning and desperately need it when it’s hot. People including my mother were sleeping in the beds of pickup trucks rather than in the house because you stuck to everything because of the heat. I slept on the hot wooden floor in the dining room and my 85 years old grandmother and would’ve been sleeping in Heaven with Jesus sooner had it been left up to my mom. My grandmother was being a pill, and everyone heard her. She And her chihuahua were soon taken to a friend who made sure she got in the air conditioning and away from us for a while. Meanwhile for the first few days everyone was eating out of each other’s freezers as the defrosting led to some good eating.

katrina satellite

There were 5 big trees on my parent’s house that were casualties of the storm. Water and sewage were a thing of the past. Gas was being rationed. And how the Mississippi Gulf Coast and New Orleans, Louisiana was doing was a mystery. It was the time when hardship let to sitting under the carport at night with sweat running down the side of our heads and swatting mosquitos and laughing to keep from crying. We knew the devastation in our neighborhood and town and that was all.
What we did learn through all of this was how to help our neighbors. When anyone mentions pulling together resources for something the time when Katrina hit the southern United States always comes to mind. I eventually got to see the hardcore destruction firsthand when I was helping to publish a book by doing some photography from the destruction. But emotionally I was affected in ways that even I don’t know. Exactly 14 years ago today Hurricane Katrina would change life for many people including myself. Because being awaken by a nightmare and a migraine let’s me know that her winds still blow.

“Life is a hurricane, and we board up to save what we can and bow low to the earth to crouch in that small space above the dirt where the wind will not reach.”
–Jesmyn Ward, Men We Reaped

#thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Confucius Says…

Confucius Says….

Ok so it’s difficult to find quotes about fortune cookies that are better just called stale cookies. I have mostly used them as entertainment to amuse myself. Anyway, since moving to Texas I’ve begun to keep my fortunes from the cookie which my alters all seem to need. What makes a cookie more delicious than having an expiration date of 1994, a slip of paper with a random fortune that will never come true and some fake lottery numbers. I haven’t found a number yet that was as lucky and a random set of keys to a brand-new house showed up in the mail for me.

I have several fortunes saved. Nowhere near as many times as I’ve gone to eat sushi and left there feeling like a frenzy feeding sharks on Shark Week. But some of the fortunes have by paranoia alarms going off and alters running for cover. When some of the phrases sound like Brene Brown wrote it that’s when a philosophical conversation breaks out. Yep, I have a head full of sporadic philosophical geniuses. And let’s face it, I’ve been a little too serious and emotional lately.

IMG_2046

The alters’ that love the fortune cookies the most are the ones that lay close to 1980’s music and culture. They also like to read them in the voice of Mr. Miyagi for added effect. My favorite fortune cookie must be the one pictured because we were all caught off guard at the thought of sleeping cookies. They’re so stale that they are more like “dead cookies.” I’m telling you that most people who live alone are literally alone. Not me…. I’ve got want-to-be comedians going all day long entertaining any and every one that I come in contact with.

It’s times like these when I wish that I could be silly with Marshall and Copeland playing and acting silly. Even they know that we play when momma can play because the swing always goes the other way. I try to take things as they come like if I was given the opportunity to duck I wouldn’t. Geez…. really universe? So, I don’t just write lighthearted blogs to help you. I do it to help me and to deal with life as it comes. I take some dark and lonely roads sometimes and get lost trying to get out. She said, “It will be worth it. Not easy.”
#thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Once Again (Poetry)

Once Again
7.30.19
I laugh a lot, but no one sees
How much these visions torment me?
Fight as I may, I have yet to win
Screaming loudly, “No! Not Again!”

God might frown but the devil smiles
He knows his influence on this broken child.
Forward I still go but no one sees
My limping, hurting and the pain that pushes me.

How do I succeed whilst in his mouth of flames?
I’ve tried and tried with very little gain
Can’t anyone plainly see?
How my demons are killing me?

I say, “Yes!” and they say, “No!
We will beat this crazy and very useless ho.
But try as I may spilling heartbroken tears;
All this happening year-after-year.

Prayers are spoken but no one sees
This desperate girl inside me begging Please!!!
To help me stop this destructive path
How many more times can I survive their wrath?

The people who help have grown weary as well.
How can I continue to drag them through my personal hell?
All the while I silently scream, “help but don’t leave!”
The message is constant “Then let us help you please!”
I don’t know how to let you love me and teach me knew things
Please let me be the puppet on a string.

I listen and try the best that I can
Can I start over and learn to let people love me again?
Answers unknown and fears cover my heart
Can I possibly let you mold me like a beautiful piece of art?

This little girl desperately wants to live
But how much more can I take and are you still willing to give?
I’m not greedy and want everything from you.
God, the universe, The Great Spirit says I’m not through.

Don’t give up as everyone has and I apologize for
being such a hardheaded jackass.
Compassionate and caring more than anyone has ever been
Please try drilling through my thick skull once again.

By: Dana Landrum-Arnold
#thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Answer The Question

Answer the Question

“I’m not telling you it’s going to be easy. I’m telling you it’s going to be worth it.”
—-Anonymous

Have you ever been so far down that the only way to look is up? I have recently begun to do just that. I’ll tell you a story about a man who was a very traumatized man from many years of abuse. He was fearsome and that power propelled him through most of his life. All along he kept living his life the way he wanted to and maintaining a life of chaos, guilt and shame. Slowly, over the years his pace wasn’t as quick. Even his facial features began changing into someone much older. His heart was growing weary of life as well as his desire for life.
Sun meadow

He was met by an angel that pointed him in the direction and said you will meet a man on your journey answer his question. You need him. “Do not leave this road or you’ll have more chaos,” the angel said. The man agreed and headed in that direction. Slowly the man started trying to take shortcuts to “feel better” along the hard and very painful road. And like the angel said his life became more chaotic until his whole self was lost in a world of self-loathing, depression and a hurt internal self. By the time he and the man met he was bruised and cut up from just making it there. He thought everyone had thrown him away because he thought and behaved differently.
He fell in every hole in the sideways and roads just barely able to pull himself out of the last hole. His internal drive for life was completely diminished. His facial features were indicative of a hard life. He had “battle wounds” all over his body stating that he was fighting a war. He looked at the stranger and said, “I’m supposed to answer a question. By the way, what is your name?” The stranger said, “My name is RECOVERY.” The now excited buy quickly told the stranger, “I need recovery. Will you help me?” The question you must answer for me is, “Do you want me?”
#thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

I Matter Now (Poetry)

I Matter Now
You forced me to listen and now it’s my time.
Your abuse has made me feel like I can’t be real in life.
You destroyed parts of me that once thrived
And you sucked me into your grasp by being very kind.

Once everyone was gone you made your first move.
Showing me the side of a human that most have to prove.
You dehumanized me in so many ways
Until I’ve learned to live life mostly in a haze.

But your days are over, and my days are here.
Oh, and the truth that everyone can hear.
About your venomous actions forced on children, teens and adults.
All you can do is sit back and sulk.

I won’t be sad because you hurt me so
But what you shoved into the ground has begun to grow.
With growth you need water and those are my tears I shed.
While I try to undo everything, you convinced me of in my head.

I went to everyone looking for help
And it made it all worse and you hurt me more until I yelped
I didn’t know it then because I was just a kid
Because I matter now, and you never ever did.

#thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Through The Eyes Of A Child (poetry)

Through The Eyes Of A Child

We Started our lives tiny and cold
Bright lights and loud noises only a few days old
We would have two mommies and the world to see.
One of our mommies would come with an extra scoop
of “special” the one called Momma D.

We know that you love us and most of the time you’re fun
But momma you scare us when you talk about guns.
Your scars we would notice and excuses we would hear
We saw the blood on the floor and your
yelling would hurt our little ears.

Momma Mel cried a lot and things you said weren’t nice.
You had expressions that scared us because your heart seemed cold as ice.
We didn’t know who had hurt you

because we didn’t understand your tears

But we did understand on word and that one word was…FEAR.

We were both born into this world for you to teach us and to guard
Why does this concept seem to be so hard?
Many times, we ran to you because kids get scared.
But the one we looked to for protection, only her body was there.

As a child we need protecting and that’s your job to do.
If you had looking into your own eyes would you
Know who was looking back at you?
One minute you were our mommy acting like a funny clown
But a lot of the time you wore a big frown.

We don’t know what they did and we’re still too young to know.
The big, scary figure we just wanted it to go.
We know you didn’t mean it but if you could only see.
That the people that hurt you were now hurting me.

If you could only understand how much we love you and
Know that our love is free
We are not the ones that hurt you, momma, open your eyes,
break down those walls and see.
Our names are Marshall and Copeland we are ages 7 and 3.
Please momma get help and be who we need you to be.

We are separated for now because there’s work that needs to be done.
And at the end of this time we will still be your loving sons.
But at the end we will proudly say, “Look at Momma D now and the person
She has become!”

You’re setting for us an example about how we should live
The ones that look up to you are two little kids.
And once day your tears will be nothing but smiles
Because you learned many lessons through the eyes of
Of a child.
#thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

“Hey Pot. This Is Kettle.”

“Hey Pot, This Is Kettle”

“I decry the injustice of my wounds, only to look down and see that I am holding a smoking gun in one hand and a fistful of ammunition in the other.”
― Craig D. Lounsbrough

One thing that most people will tell you about me is that it’s hard to have any kind of a relationship with me unless you have thick skin or can separate behavior from the truth. Why is this? Well, I can only say what I believe to be the truth. I most often self-sabotage relationships in order to keep from getting hurt. This doesn’t mean that the person I sabotage the relationship with did anything wrong. Sounds odd? Trust me it is.
So much of my life has been about wearing masks that being on the hunt for my authentic self is proving very difficult. Everything about relationships scares me. I fear people leaving and/or dying. And I also fear people hurting me. Not so surprising if you take note of my trauma history. Confusing for me and other people yes. What makes me angry is that before all the chaos in my life began relationships held very high priority for me. They were never replaceable. The relationship that I had with that person was as individual as they are.

When this sabotaging happens it’s because I’ve gotten scared. Either the person has seen someone other than “the clown.” When people begin to see me as someone other than that friend they like to hang out with and laugh I get very scared. Because in my experience those that see the nice side of me first might leave me at the first sign of trouble. I fear judgement. And I fear their rejection if they don’t like the truth. So, instead of just waiting to see the outcome, I control the outcome.

pot calling kettle black

I had good relationships at one that that once they saw the effects of abuse on me, they run. Once they’ve seen the scars, been around my extremely intense mood shifts and paranoia they leave. As a result, I bought into the belief that “I wasn’t worthy of good relationships because everyone leaves eventually.” This in turn adds fuel to the fire of self-hatred and my self-harm escalates. Next relationship the cycle continues until you get tired of the painful emotional toll that it takes, and you become a prisoner of to your home to keep from having contact with people out of fears. I then sabotaging through self-harm and isolation further worsening my condition. This then leads to more depression and anxiety and lack of social stimulation. Therefore, anytime I try to be around other people, in public, the overstimulation is just too much because I live a rather bland existence.

This is something that coach and I face with me. Not to mention the scared alters always paranoid and looking for danger at any turn. But I continue to work towards a more permanent solution so that I can keep meaning relationships in the future. First, I must get used to being in public around people and all the different verbal and visual stimulation of everyday life. Fingers and toes crossed that this goes well. I can promise you that I win the “Most Harded” award every year.  Not something to brag about but always true.  I always chuckle when I tell someone that they’re being hardheaded. Their response, “Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?” All I can say, “Why yes, it is.”
#thispuzzledlife