My Life in a nutshell

 Joy is complex. Joy  is complicated.  Joy is difficult. Complex emotions that most people accept as normal like fear, anger frustration sadness hopelessness  and loss for me became the majority of life. Feelings like  Joy, hope, love  and peace  were rare enough, but also followed within seconds, minutes or days  with violence anger explosions and family (parental)  abuse... so much  abuse. So now as a 26 year old, as a mother as an adult with responsibilities  all those Normal,  Good Joyful feelings Cause me to  completely utterly uncontrollably  Panic. And how the HELL  am I supposed  to heal from that? What the Hell am I supposed  to do and feel  when the happy emotions bring me to my knees WITH PANIC. With complex-PTSD  Joy is Panic. -Madi-

 I can't get up Im in the Zone I can't move Im in the Zone. The moments of pain, Fuel the Zone The painful memories Create the Zone And here I am In the Zone. The Zone is the writing space the place of anguish the place of physical pain the place where the memories of the abuse of the relentless fear of the ongoing trauma Live Unchecked in the Zone. The Zone  is the productive part of the complexities that plague my past and refuse to allow me to sleep and when I do sleep  refuse to allow me to wake. The Zone is the compilation of feelings thought emotions pains aches memories wishes nightmares dreams betrayals fears and all that has past. The Zone is and always will be, the place where the disordered thinking goes to organize itself, and becomes what you fear on paper. I may never be great,  and that's fine, I never truly wanted to be known, as being known is risking the exposure of deep self publicly. However, I am what I am  now, because of the Zone. All it h...

 The Rage  The memories like a  Kaleidoscope  Meshing, blending, flowing. The moments when Im supposed to feel A specific way And don't..... Rage. The intensity of emotions The conditioning Helpless. The pain To help and to protect To change To challenge Reform Rage. The rage is the desire to  Change. -Madi-

 The moments The happy ones Are tainted. Each memory Shrouded in Grief in Pain in fear. Each second of my life Nightmarishly blended into mush. Fear Pain Anger Rage Are all I remember as a child. I was expected to act happy, I was  exhausted, beat down in pain. Birthdays are Hellish. Hollidays are Pain. Forgiveness is, for me. They have nothing they can gain. The shit The abuse The fear Never believing I would live. 7 and  8 year olds don't do these things Nor 10, Or 12 or 15,  17, 18 19 23 24 I really never believed In the survival instinct. Hell.  Does. Not. Scare. Me. My life has been so bad that the flames of Christian hell are to mild. But my Gods My stars My Guides Ancient Wisdom. I am alive, Why? Why is it so painful? Why do the happy memories fade, Quickly? Simply. Why?

The Ramblings of Hope  Why do I a poem write, When paragraphs would fill the blanks Stories to be told in pros Are secrets deeper row by row. Magic in the words  Blossom like roses  A bush of thorns from the bottom The thorns of truth are often hidden Behind the petals of Beautifully Veiled  Selectively Worded. If at light I slept with ease,  Beneath the trees in a summer breeze, Then, a story I might write Full of marvel and delight But the truth is far to close The cold and wind around me blows. Fear and uncertainty grip my core Can I even shut the door? Panic as the ghosts appear, Harsh words ringing in my ear, As my panic grows and grows, The thorns cannot protect the rose. Shut the door The past is gone You can't be hurt, so Turn it off. I can't  You see because for me, The past is now, the future is free If im not here, or there, or then I never was and never am. I am,  however, I stand tall and true These thorns I grew them just for you Though I...

  I was told  I am too mobile Too motivated Too successful To be disabled. Why yes, I am motivated, But who's scale of success? I am broke, I am struggling, Every job I get, I lose to this chronic pain. Physically, I am broken into a  Million feelings and experiences Pain, agony, swelling and a weird  New development last year. Losing consciousness is  Terrifying Awful and worry some But they can't figure out the WHY so These doctors slap on labels that don't really fit. SO how, then, do I find motivation? I am a mother to a perfect little boy. I am a protector and provider, I refuse to lay down and quietly die,  I am a sister, daughter, friend and lover. So many rely on me,  To be present,  Care, Love, Protect and adore Them. This is my Motivation.