Tag Archives: confidence

I do this for you.

 

I do this for you.
I am relieving you
Of the burden
Of myself.
I love you too much
To destroy you repeatedly.
Instead, this way, you are only destroyed once more.
Please forgive me.
I know you will.
You’ve forgiven me for worse.
You forgive me
Daily
For worse.
I don’t deserve your forgiveness.
I don’t deserve anything.
I don’t deserve your presents or love or encouragement.
I don’t deserve your tears, your money, your heartache.
I don’t deserve your long-suffering, painful red eyes.
I don’t deserve the way
You just keep bending.
I deserve your hatred.
I deserve blows.
I deserve prison.
But you
Will never give those things to me
Not you.
Not ever.
I will never change.
I have tried and I have tried.
I’m giving up on me.
Something you would never do.
Then again, I was never
Good enough
For you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

It’s better to react quickly and look stupid than to not react in time

One of my coworkers just got his hip replaced. I am very fond of him. He is a fellow writer, and he always eats my cooking. Brave, brave man. 😉

Today was one of his first days back. From his cube, I heard a THUNK and then him swearing quietly.

My stomach dropped. I left my chair and rushed into his cube.

He was fine! He had been raising his desk to a standing height when the side got hooked on the printer, raised it, and dropped it. That was the big noise.

Two other concerned coworkers peeked in. After the worried questions and dismissive answers, we went back to our desks. One of them remarked, “Wow, you were in there fast! I sit right next to him and you were still in there before me.”

Having had an ill mother, as well as several very accident-prone family members, all the kids in my family learned to jump when something happened.

I am haunted by an experience I had when I was about 19, in college. I was supposed to spend some time visiting an old lady in a home as part of a community service credit.

In the course of our conversation, she had mentioned to me that a resident next door to her had fallen and was calling for help for hours before she heard her and got staff to help.

Later on, I went to visit her again. As we talked, and I kept hearing an odd, high vocalization every minute or so, from the other room. I didn’t think about it too hard, and politely wrote it off. I must have heard it for at least 30 minutes. Eventually the lady I was with heard it, too.

“What is that sound?” she said.

“I don’t know,” I replied. “I keep hearing it.”

Being wheelchair bound, she pushed the call button, waited for an aide, and asked them to check on the noise. In her wisdom and experience, she was proactive about the situation the minute she noticed something unusual.

Of course, it was the resident in the next room. She had fallen again and was calling from the floor, in her frail weak voice, “Help!…Help!”

It’s amazing how much you forget. In writing this, I realized I don’t know if I ever saw the neighboring resident’s face. I don’t remember what we were talking about. The whole thing is like a hazy dream.

Only one thing keeps its sharp clear edges:  the sounds in the background of our long conversation, sounds which I had written off in the back of my mind, sounds which I was too shy and uncertain to act upon, and so ignored: a pathetic, persistent, exhausted cry for help.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

The hangdog man

Quiet man
Bent shoulders
Apologetic, hangdog face
Tells his story

I don’t smile
Because my smile looks goofy
I don’t want to be cocky
Overbearing
I want above all
To be approachable
Humble
My most feared flaws are
Haughtiness
Arrogance
My dad, I thought he was perfect
But he wasn’t
He wasn’t perfect at all
I thought I was a screw up
Because I wasn’t like my dad
Now I don’t want to be like him
Arrogant
Haughty
I want to be kind, nonjudgmental
I want to be loving
I want to be gentle
I want to not
Hurt
Anyone
Ever again
I was arrogant once
I drank, I hurt people
I don’t want to hurt anyone ever again
So I shrank
And shrank
Until nobody

could

 

see

 

 

me

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

Hate – slam poem

 

I gotta learn how to upload sound files properly… but I was feeling especially lazy today.

 


 

 

 

 

how to encapsulate
hate

Of all the hates
hate for the self is strongest
because you have no defense
from yourself
denial is all you can use
a powerful tool indeed
but once hate wrests that from you
it can turn your greatest defense
into its sharpest weapon.

Hate stings
it burns
it cuts cuts cuts cuts
it hangs itself
shoots itself
throws itself over boundaries
and even when it falls
it crawls crawls crawls
so you kick it
fight it
try to
destroy it
sometimes you win the fight
sometimes you lose
but the battle never ends
and there are days when hate
appears to be
insurmountable

hate is a monster.
hate has fangs.
hate has many grinding teeth.
quick to eat, slow to digest.
hate is always
hungry
undeniable
hate runs deep
hating you
hating your movements
hating your soul
hating what you are
hating what you aren’t.
it is righteous anger.
it is simpering greed.
it steps on the faces of good people
it spits on the finest intentions
crumples them like old tissues and throws them out.
hate has no regard
no respect
nothing
a consuming fire
a consuming evil
a consuming disease
It eats eats eats

and you
always in the middle
scared you
eyes like marbles
pale, weak
tired
you
are the one who has to fight this thing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

Journal – The Girl with no Fear

 

Here’s a funny thing about myself. I always have majorly overblown confidence about a thing until I’m halfway into it.

“I’m not afraid of people. I love talking to people! I can face down a crowd.” Then I blithely stand up to tell a story about a coworker at a small friendly retirement party. I am shocked when, halfway through, my hands are shaking hard. I have to breathe and calm down but my punchline falters a bit. Am I afraid of public speaking? Looking back to when I did theatre in college, it was the same: one hundred percent confidence followed by shakes on stage.

“I like rock climbing! I like nature! I’m gonna sign up for this little class and learn the knots and then I can hang (get it?) with my rock-climbing big brother and sister.” I take the class, start climbing the first little practice tower, and hit critical mass. I am shaking so hard I don’t trust myself to climb any higher. My hands have locked down on the rock climbing nubbins. “I forgot I’m afraid of heights!” I call back to my bemused classmates from a whopping ten feet high.

I got to meet a new friend on videochat recently. No fear there. Slept like a baby. Excited, happy puppy enthusiasm. “Yay, a new person to love!!” We talked, and she was awesome, and the conversation was easy, and everything was fine as long as I didn’t get distracted by my own reflected strangerface and lose track of the conversation.

After I hung up, I started making some oatmeal. As I stirred the pot I thought, “Where is that quiet screaming coming from? It’s getting louder. Oh, right! My own head.” After some puzzling I figured out that it was latent anxious adrenaline rush from meeting her. DID SHE LIKE ME WAS I STUPID DID I HURT HER FEELINGS???

 

Anyway, I thought it was just a funny character trait, but now that I’ve written it down, I see it’s my old friend Emotional Repression popping up. Hello again. Let’s never talk.

I have definitely gotten better, but digging my emotional core free is a slow, slow process. Sometimes Repression pops up and bites me in the ass, just like old times. It bites less than before, but it still bites.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

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