the world and writing of a nyc writer

gretchen is a writer in new york city

Tag: sorrow (page 8 of 11)

situational. watching out.

Namaste Blog Family

I love you. I haven’t said that enough lately – just thought I would remind you.

I’ve been reading a lot lately. This has me overjoyed because it means I must be getting better. It’s funny, I think a lot of people who experience depression have no idea that they actually are. I think there are a lot of misconceptions about it.

I’ve come to understand that for the past five years, I’ve been experiencing something known as “situational depression”. Some people with clinical depression have chemical imbalances that knock them around. And at other times, like with me, a traumatic life event sets it off.

Depression doesn’t mean you can’t function, it doesn’t even necessarily mean you feel sad all the time. I guess that’s how it snuck up on me. I function just fine. But when I look back over the last few years – some of my behaviors, things most people wouldn’t even notice – don’t align with standard Gretchen Cello style.

Not at all.

My ex-husband left me emotionally far before the courts declared us officially over. I asked my psychologist why I stayed in a situation as unhealthy as the one I was in, because that’s not like me at all. She said, “Because you wanted it to work.”

She’s right.

When I was in Australia, I could go weeks at a time with virtually no interaction with anyone (except the puppies, of course – who are booked for arrival September 2012). Today is Thursday. Over the past week, I have been visited by my mother, sister #2, cousin, and four of my favorite people on the planet – with another arriving tomorrow for a New York City Christmas sleepover – after I go out with one of my girls tonight for a mani/pedi session. And let’s not leave out the phone calls with two other sisters, father, brother from another mother and my mates in Australia just about every day – and Skype sessions with a fellow Artist in the UK.

Last night on the phone with one of my sisters in Melbourne a piece of our conversation was phrased, “How are you darling? You know we’re all still watching out for you…”

Something else I’ve learned from going to a psychologist is the idea of hindsight, 20/20 vision. Anyone can look back at certain instances or periods of life and say, “Really?” That’s what makes life, hey?

It also makes books.

People heal in different ways. A lot of people use the old, “Time heals all wounds” line. Writing is what heals my wounds. Writing and our love tribe. As a Healer myself, I need to be around people – I need to feel like I’m helping people. I spent too long getting stomped on and reacting to the stomping in rotten ways.

But I’m getting better. Furthermore, I’ve made significant progression designing a writing workshop for other people to attend who are interested in using the art of language  to heal from the traumatic events life shoots at each of us sooner or later, it’s all part of the process – the game, if you will.

Forwards and upwards blog family! My knees are certainly skinned, but I am surrounded by a divine group of souls with boundless boxes of bandaids…

 

pushed. your pleasure.

pushed. your pleasure.

I once found a way
To love in colors. Somehow
Brighter. Then. Lampshade secrets.
He switched. Something.
What he did not. What no one
Bothers. Looking. To reveal:
I tap history. To hurt:
Why couldn’t you hear me?
I have this. Ability.
And he said he knew.
And he promised he would…
Soften a strength. Set up
Without stealing a soul;
Yet stabs a broken heart.
Devoured on a shared plate.
Do you mention what you left?
Stone presence. First. I commit
To an entirety, never a chance
Of pairing. Sell me out to
Spread leg shallow.
I hope you find… you’re worth
More than a mother brings.
As I abide with the burden,
I am used
To “it”.
Enjoy.

… and it sounds like this:

lower than deep. south.

lower than deep. south.

He was never
Capable to capture
How I sway
To levels beyond
The love you claim.
The hurt you heal.
Congratulations.
I wish cheer and
Hope and pray and
Assume like finds
Like. Tripping past
Into a history I know
I should have never
Created. Plastic
Manifested from shallow
Need. Dual stipulation,
Forget my lack and I
Forget yours. See
They trade pathetic
Excuses of reason.
She could have never
Been. You are now so
Right. Left, we do not
Speak. Forbid reason
Seeping; through.
Opposite of them,
I am growing. I water;
Unnourished
Promise. Praying
For a call to the sky,
Otherwise. Only.
Falling.

attack escape

attack escape

She gobbles his distortion. Counterfeit
Couple. Duplicate deception. Cut me
Again. I reshape fate. He spits. Legit
Phase. One. “What we have is something so deep.”
Repulsive revival. Another fool.
My colors align. Spin in seven ways.
Learn: Acceptance does not come on terms. Two.
“The abuse was carved for 1000 days.”
She is too thick to wonder what broke down;
Create a label, sleep better at night.
Nothing is sobering except the truth.
Turn your failure into another fight.
Chase another way, construct phony youth.
Blessings while you convince the rest your play,
Why do you think I never would have stayed?

weeding tolerance

weeding tolerance

you think. you can do
to me: what you wish.

degrade yourSelf
in a scope of human

as you both. wallow
besides insecurity. next

move into regurgitated
i’ve never felt this way

before. it mattered.
my shoulders dropped

to control. until he came,
shots of lies. transparent

promises. they make –
a pair of crises. double

mess. my mind. glimpse
of a disgusted glory.

illiterate longing.
fabricate what you feel

while my motion increases.
fueled by a face slap.

every slip is savored.
to straighten. honest steps.

taking in. tolerance.
eliminate immiscible.

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