The Fear of Being "Crazy"

I didn't have therapy this week. It was by my choice. The week was already headed towards crazy, so why not space therapy out two weeks and see how it works.

I don't know how it has worked. I miss it. I feel like I need it. I think about things and in my head, ask, "Should I talk to the therapist about this?"

I have a fear. A slight panic inside of me. That I hide my life inside this shell of insanity so that I don't have to think or deal with it. If I can just go through motions and not dive into the dirty, painful parts, does that mean that I am okay? That I am "healed"?

My life has a cyclic element to it. There is always this deep dark time, this feeling as if I am drowning and can't be normal, then this calm. This plateau. This regularity. And that's when I am okay and "healed", except that I always cycle back to the time of being lost and in my personal hell. I am afraid that if I quit now, if I think that I'm doing extraordinarily, and stop working on myself, that I will end up right back there in that...place.

And that place is why I sought help on the first hand. Because I recognized a cycle and I want out of it. It is almost like a looming part of my life..this thing that I cannot escape. I have fought with these demons since I was young and I want to be free. I need to be free, so I try. And I fight. And I need to figure out what they are...

This image is not mine. It's a wallpaper I found online, but it visually represents so well...

How can you fight a creature inside of you if you don't know what exactly it is? You use garlic to ward off vampires, but it does no good on a werewolf? What benefit do I have if I hold garlic in my hand, but the attacking creatures are not vampires.

My therapist and I are working to find this out, I believe. But it is a slow process. And I am afraid that there will be more attacks before I figure out the weapon to defeat them. Maybe scheduling for two weeks was a bad idea...

This is a painting I did when Jose and I first got married. I locked myself in the

bathroom, upset and crying for hours and ended up making this.

Afterthought:

When I was in high school, I wrote a lot, especially poetry. This one explains my life and how I feel sometimes....

Cannot See

I am so afraid of the things I cannot see

They are out there, watching and waiting for me

I’m locked in a closet without a key

It’s so dark in here and I cannot see

I am terrified of the possibilities

The many accidents with many liabilities

Everyone points fingers, full of hostilities

My nightmares are filled with possibilities

The crowd gathers at night to prosecute

Their anger seeks to execute

The world is full of tasty forbidden fruit

That will cause everyone to prosecute

I no longer fear the problem, only the solution

With my imprisonment in an institution

Acting like I could kill them with retribution

Because they don’t seek for a solution

They stare at me with their disdain

I feel like they can see through to the bloodstain

The way they’re treating me is inhumane

Through my cage, I also show my disdain

I fear that this will all end in fatality

Am I condemned for my personality

Or more likely, is it because of my nationality?

In my insanity, I dream for fatality

In front of my audience, I cry in frustration

And I study their faces for an explanation

I am getting tired of being under observation

I no longer feel fear, just exhaustion and frustration

I am humiliated as I am being undressed

And they only ignore me and my last request

With death I am now becoming obsessed

It is killing me to become emotionally undressed

I am awoken every morning at sunrise

And my mind is filled with thoughts that terrorize

I am a spectacle as crews come to televise

And they don’t know how I despise the sunrise

I am no longer afraid of what I cannot see

Because seeing is worse, I guarantee

When in the blackness, they also cannot see me

And I can finally cry when they cannot see