Therapeutic Balances

On Friday October 17th, I had a consultation with a new therapist because recently I’ve decided that I need help with my mental health in general because I’ve put it off for many years and I just keep thinking that quick fixes get me places.

Quick fixes in my experience, really are just quick. They aren’t fixes, but that term just seems to follow the work “quick” sometimes.

Whether it be alcohol, antidepressants or even both of those mixed together. Longboarding, writing, singing, taking walks only soothes the soul so much when you’re burying the things that need to be worked on, pushed through.

For me, I’ve been struggling with dysphoria, with staying at jobs even through the hard times and just other things that have seem to have grown.

At first, I wasn’t sure how my appointment was going to go, because I get really nervous with Psychiatrists and Therapists, professionals in a whole. I got there early, which I wasn’t sure was going to happen seeing as I had to take two transit busses and then a subway to get there and so I waited for a bit.

While I was in the appointment, I felt so free… I’m used to telling complete strangers almost my entire life in stories and poems and whatever, but with therapists, it’s a hit and miss type situation for me. I either hide many details of my life, or I spill almost way too much. This time, I spilt enough information to help me feel great about it.

One minute I want therapy, the next I don’t, but this time I have a great feeling that I’m going to finally allow myself to get the help that I need. I realize that I may never end up being okay without therapy, but I’ll never know unless I try.

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Trembling Intentions

You hinted that you wanted inside my head

I smothered you with the warmest temptatons

But scolded you with the cruelest intentions

Words that have not yet reached my trembling vocal chords

You told me that you still wanted to know about me

I took that into my own one hand with a slight flick of the softest wrist

Used my cold hand with a more harsher affect by allowing you to feel the things I’ve done

You still wanted me to show you more

I tried to dig deeper into my vault of nightmares

Ended up opening old wounds just to have you touch them with an ooze of kindness

Running, I started to run, while my body stood still and you looked at me

” Oh child, I want you, need you to let me in ”

Mouth wide, breathing sounds escaped from the space, but no words rolled off my tongue

I knew from that moment that you had seen not what you wanted, but turned the sights into something soft

I prefer winter’s cold shoulders.

I want to believe that the summer is more comforting than the winter, but I’m not quite sure that it is.

The winter calms me as it freezes the water droplets on tree branches.

The winter relaxes me everytime I see the sky shedding little pieces of frozen art.

The winter speaks to me in volumes, when the summer just keeps denying me of my air.

The winter bares my demons lighter than the summer claims to show.

But here I am trying to list the things that summer benefits me besides it’s positive vibes.

It’s rays of sunshine lifts me up, but maybe I’d rather the winter allow me to cilmb admist it’s cold shoulders.

It’s light tear falls dulls even the sharpest parts of me, but maybe I’d rather the winter stab me in the back with it’s icicles of truth.

It’s way of heating me feels nice, but I’d rather the winter show me all it has in store for me as it’s angry storms rip apart the seams of my very being.

Walking alongside the demons

The song that I am listening to while writing this post:

Just What I am by Kid Cudi Featuring King Chip. You calmed me down when the demons were popping out Now they're slowly receiding, like my hairline may end up one day Confessing my sins to you as though you're a preacher But I know that I can trust you, walk with you To the shore, along the way I can open up Maybe, just maybe you'll be that person who will stick around Friend, yes, calming to say because I've had them, been there and done that Hit the friend scene and fleed it like a circus Crowds aren't my forte, but a lot of things aren't Trust is something I'll have to work on more Because I trust so easily that I don't, so trust me when I say I'm dying Inside in more ways than one, with feeling entrapped Aside from the fact that I've benched, sidelined these things I like to refer to as broken I can be there too, not just you baring the weight of intellectuality Sometimes I don't make sense, and I let my brain do the talking I say whatever's on my mind, filtered sometimes, but mostly not Like the water in the rivers, flowing without boundaries