The Bipolar Diva: New Sensation

The Bipolar Diva: New Sensation: She shut off the water of the hot, steamy shower she had taken, not only to cleanse her body, but to also aid in rid...

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New Sensation

She shut off the water of the hot, steamy shower she had taken, not only to cleanse her body, but to also aid in ridding her soul, from layers of toxic threads that had slowly entrapped her.

In her hands she gathered her blonde hair and began to squeeze from it what she could of the remaining water she had immersed herself in.

She watched as the droplets that fell, formed streams that traced her bare body, as Newton’s Law prevailed. She imagined, willed, them to envelope, and carry with them, poisonous particles that had pierced, and bound, her spirit from wounds both past and present.

She stepped from the calming atmosphere she had luxuriated in, grabbed a thick, white, cotton, towel to wrap her still dripping hair, and another to dry the shell that embodied her essence.

As she filled her hands with her trademark scented lotion, she carefully studied the symbols on her body of broken chains. Symbols that had been permanently injected into her soft, ivory, skin. To her they not only represented the opening of a locked door, but also the key to a life yet to be explored. 

The air was heavy with steam as she cracked the door to allow a fresh breeze to fill her lungs. She removed the saturated towel from her hair, shook her head, allowing her long, blonde, tresses to fall to her waist, and cover much of her torso.

When the fog had been carried away with the light breeze, she stepped to the mirror. She gazed at the same face, partially covered with wefts of wavy, wet, hair, she had seen every day for decades, but this time noticed something different. 

There was a glimmer, a sparkle, in her auburn eyes, and a new sensation of inner growth, and within it she saw her true self. Although fearful of what was to come in much of her new life, she was certain, and committed, in other areas.

She stood there, as bare as her new-found existence, and felt the confines of the silken threads, in which she had been bound, begin to dissolve. With that she sensed, and embraced, the colorful wings she had always carried, but had never been allowed to fully open, emerging.  

Although fear’s talons still gripped her, she felt a confidence never before felt, and realized within herself she did have the capability to truly be happy. 

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Carefully Crafted

For months now I have been advised to censor, and carefully craft, my writings.

Tonight, however, thoughts spilling from my mind shall be written and, with luck, cathartic.

Fifty two years of audio is trampling through my throbbing temples, and tears flow in the attempt to reform negative, and controlling, rhetoric into positive affirmations.

I feel divided, my inner most core tells me one thing, my mind and heart another.

How can I explain to others in a way they can understand, when I, myself, didn't know what was happening for what seemed a lifetime, was a lifetime?

Over the last few years of soul searching I thought I knew what I was running from, running to.

People through those years witnessed, and were very aware, of the situation I was facing, and why I ran. I thought I knew and repeatedly refused to listen to their words of knowledge.

They all tried to coax me to see the reality of the place, so dark, in which I had lived. I rebutted their wisdom, and ran with what I thought to be the truth.

Finally, this summer, the words they had spoken, time after time, were illuminated, and my eyes, my heart, were opened, and to myself I admitted the unthinkable.

I was surprised each, and every, time person after person approached me with the same words that others before had desperately tried to get me to embrace.

It was then I realized, I wasn't running from me, but from something entirely different. It was then my spirit lightened, and felt it could fly free. Everything made sense.

It was then I felt as though I could breathe, and be myself.

Unfortunately decades of indoctrination are difficult to throw away, even though I now admit what others had seen is true, the effects of a lifetime come in waves.

A rock had been thrown into the pond, everyone wanted to see as still, causing the water to ripple, it will take time for those effects to slow, and for the water to once again calm.

Most days I'm able to cope, to see the brightness that lies ahead, other days, like now, the shades are once again drawn, as words of unworthiness, and flashes of bruises, replay in my mind, and make me doubt the reasons for my existence.

One thing I have learned, that I've always known, is that I have a spirit that is tenacious, and a will that can overcome the darkness of the past.

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Stars

The night was so dark, cold, and isolating.

She longed for the shivering to end, and numbness slowly set in.

Over the years only a handful knew the depth of her pain and understood her desire to flee. 

Still entrapped by the talons that brought the isolation, she had grown used to the emptiness that had taken over.

It took years for the time to come when she was able to make the initial step of taking the night and embracing it.

She surrounded her soul with its solitude and blackness.

It was then she found the isolation was warm, much like the softness of velvet, and the petals of a black rose.  

Once she was enveloped by the cozy feeling of isolation, wrapped, and comforted, she turned and saw stars shining brightly; stars that would light her path. 

It was to those shimmering beams, and the hope they brought, she was drawn.

The twinkling lights in the night, that she followed, slowly turned night into the dawn of a new day.

Her stagnant, and mildewed existence, was replaced by a fresh breeze and the brightness of her future to which the stars were calling her to.

Though she is still in the process of clipping the grip of talons that held her spirit captive for so long, she knows a bright, new, world awaits, and the tight petals of the black rose will open into beautiful colors long since extinct.

xoxo,

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Ain't No Grave

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Beneath The Cat

Beneath a stuffed cat, in a box tucked out of sight, I caught a glimpse of neatly folded, thin, yellowed paper. I held my breath as memories of years before came rushing forth.

Few would recognize what the crisply wrapped, filmy paper enveloped; however, I instantly knew its contents.

Its prisoner once held the power to transmit my emotional pain into an ethereal peace that cannot be described by written word, only felt by the souls, and the spirits, of those that share the knowledge of its transcending powers.

In my mind I was able to clearly visualize the sharpened edges, to feel the cold steal against my skin, and to remember my resolve to overcome the torment the blade represented. 

There was a time when I allowed free flowing, ruby colored, ribbons to run haphazardly down my arm. I vividly remembered how observing their individual paths flooded my mind with tranquility, and allowed my focus to shift, granting the emotional torment to dull for a time, enabling me to re-charge for the next inevitable storm.

Carefully, slowly, I picked up the stuffed feline. I saw dozens more of the razor containing envelopes. I had stored them to aid in the release from the mental pain I knew would soon come, in actuality, it never left.

I removed the contents of the box, all but the objects of my memories. I stood, cardboard box in hand, and determinedly walked to the garbage can.

I watched as the symbols, of what had once held me captive, slowly tumbled into the container. As each one fell into the abyss, I felt pieces of my once tattered soul return. The instant they had all been discarded,  I knew I would once again become whole.

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