flogging again

Flogging

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Flogging again.
Trance states of hypnotic memories.
Beating myself for comfort.
Emulating Nancy Drew looking for clues.
Flogging again.
Fear, self blame and anger.

I know I should let it go.
Let this just be unanswered.
Let this be just another thing in life.
But there are moments when I just can't, yet.
Why this?

Why can't I, be possessed by other unknowns.
Unknowns I live with everyday.
Obsess over a need to understand pluming and how the water comes from the river to my bathroom.
Or how sheet music reads to finger movement on guitar strings.
Flog myself into medical school.
But no I can't let go of this pain.
I can't stop random waves of pain and confusion.
Crap.

My exorcism will come.
Time will successfully bring my simple carelessness back.
I will return to my abnormal state of intellect.
After it stops raining.
When the wind dies down.
The sun will come out.
When rays of sun peak threw the gray sky.
I'll still be here.
My thoughts will be of shoes and handbags.
Obsessed by the black boots I saw in a store window.
Someday I'll back without prudence.
I'll again be that potpourri I know I am.
Of tasteless comedy, experience, reliance and foolishness.

But today it rains.
Flogging again.
Infinity of torment
Inadequacy and injustice are warped with my perception of karma and personal shortcomings.

Flogging, flogging again
The realization that your actions affect other was something that saved my life once.
When I was young I fantasized of the relief death would bring.
Forgetting about those who I left behind.
Time, years and age cursed me with the experiences of burying my friends.
They hurt me.
Couldn't do that to another.

So I flog
Waiting for an awaking.
Waiting for scab to heal.
Waiting for a sunny day.
Waiting for god to gift me a thoughtless laugh.
Waiting
Flogging.
I was raised in the Catholic Church.
Gifted from the need for faith.
I subscribe to belief in god.
I'm an adult living with a mental illness.
I have manipulated the need for forgiveness.
My conviction is always an after thought.
My poor decisions now are more aware then when I was twenty.
But I still selfishly live.
The guilt isn't as overwhelming either.

But I flog.
I envy those who cut in line without thought.
I envy those who feel they have the right.
Without guilt they blame others.
I envy that.
I'm to blame for all my problems.
Yes people have hurt me. I couldn't control some of that.
If your raped you can't be at blame.
Or can you?
Blame karma, maybe then it was your fault.
Flog again

You can't live always sad.
Blaming your self for not knowing the magic word that saves your grandfather from cancer.
You need to feel anger and unfairness.
You can't flog yourself forever.
For a moment I'm strong again.
Stopped flogging

If you flog and flog you'll miss the freedom of laughing at that dirty joke you shouldn't but tell your parents.

For a moment strong
Flogging and flogging you become arrogant.
Everyone hurts.
Who are you not to let it go?
Is my pain more then another?
Grief is grief.
Life is painful and unfair to everyone.

Strong for a moment
I am bipolar, mentally ill.
It's a fact I might be more susceptible to the effects of trauma then some.
I have also been in therapy, forced to learn coping skills for over ten years.
Aware I need a pill to blur my focus on the unanswered question of why?
Aware flogging isn't working.
Masturbating my sadness only feeds and can't change the hurt.

Faked it
Not flogging, not strong
Aware
Glad I wrote my flogging away for now

Grief
A feeling I think is the most personal of the feelings.
Everyone has felt it, but yours is yours.
It never goes away either but it fades.
I sat next to a man on plane once, he had my Pop-Pops hands and I was drowned by a wave of grief for a moment.
A moment.
His memory was a subject of mine for a while after but the grief wasn't as paralyzing as the year after is disappearance.

I didn't know
I once didn't know pain wasn't forever.
But then again I'm medicated too.
I've also lived thirty-five years.
I've lived undeserved forgiveness.
I've done deeds of kindness without thought and told unforgettable lies.
But people still stand by me.
I'm here still, loved not judged for my past.

Luckiest person I know
I know I'm lucky
A curse in a way
How do I give up?
When life beats me up.
How do I give up when my folks stand by me even as I fail again?
How do I give up knowing others who don't have the love I have?
The curse is I can't.
I'm lucky and I know it.
I'm grateful.
Although flogging I don't think I've been grateful enough.