One more for “The Ex Files”

He made her feel like she wasn’t worth anything as her tears fell at his feet, she looked in the mirror and couldn’t see herself anymore, she only saw what he wanted her to be…and she was only what he wanted to see….from denying her for not accepting to do as he wanted. She had to accept his terms or be fucked, figuratively not literally.

So she let her hair down, made her face up, put on her heels, her prettiest dress and walked on out. she did what few will dare to do, some look at her with envy and others not so much….in the end it doesn’t matter… she will walk toward the door, walk out, face the night, whether it is dark or lit by a million stars and the world will be hers once again. She is at peace with finding herself.

The one thought she has come to find comfort in is that she is only herself when she is alone. She doesn’t have to give herself and who she is, who she can be for anyone that can’t accept her for her. No more insecure, immature and jealous anyone’s to hold her back and hold her down.

Something is really wrong here~

DSM-IV Diagnostic Criteria for Panic Attack

ever felt this way before?


A discreet period of intense fear or discomfort, in which four (or more) of the following symptoms developed abruptly and reached a peak within 10 minutes:

  • Trembling or shaking
  • Sweating 
  • Palpitations, pounding heart, or accelerated heart rate
  • Sensations of shortness of breath or smothering
  • Feeling of choking
  • Chest pain or discomfort
  • Nausea or abdominal distress
  • Feeling dizzy, unsteady, lightheaded, or faint
  • Derealization (feelings of unreality) or depersonalization (being detached from oneself)
  • Fear of losing control or going crazy
  • Fear of dying
  • Paresthesias (numbness or tingling sensations)
  • Chills or hot flashes
  • I’m definitely feeling more than 4 of the above symptoms…I decided to call it a night, shortly after removing all my garments and getting myself situated under my covers, turning my bedside lamp off, turning my fan on laying my head on my pillow…it started. It isn’t my first Panic Attack, but this was one of the worst ones I’ve had in a long time. My heart is still not settled. Perhaps it never will, it isn’t a good feeling. These are the times I wish I had someone to hold me and reassure me, that ship has sailed and I am on my own…well that’s not entirely true, I have you, so thank you for being here for me, while I spill out my vulnerabilities.

    So anyhoo I’m back to being propped up with my pillows, hearing noices…such as vehicles up and down the street, listening to my playlist, thoughts interrupting my train of thought and the flow of the words as they come out of my head and unto the screen, it is a weird process watching the letters appear as I tap away, a millions thoughts coming through, such as the need to do laundry and should I just go ahead and start now, it takes me at least 5 trips back and forth from my hamper to the laundry room, I can’t carry an entire load and I have to break it down into small piles…or should I work on my grocery list…or should I just hand my credit card to my boys and let them get whatever they think we need. My list doesn’t change much…I may try that…

    I need to also work on getting some of the papers off my desk, I have a small rolling hanging folder filing thingie in my closet…I need to pull that out and organize my papers and have that next to my desk…ready for when (and if) the idiots call me.

    So much that I could be doing, and I get to think about how I could get all that done quicker than I can tap it out on my keyboard if I was able-bodied and not in this current condition.

    Earlier something totally creeped me out, and I can’t explain, I am not a prayerful person, but some thoughts about that have been looming…I may need more help than I can offer myself….

    I talked to one of my aunts earlier it was brief, but I mentioned something to her about an offer made to me, she wisely agreed with me…do not accept such offer, the price later on will be too high…..some things just aren’t free, nothing much is….better to do/go without than have to worry about strings.


    In the minds eye…..but what about clarity in the heart? Some concepts can be so elusive. I’m just about done reading book 3….then what…sheesh I’ll have to go off in search of a new book to read….I should try to get myself to the library….but not sure when I’ll be able to make it happen…I have a Nora Roberts book I tried to read early on when I got back from the hospital and just couldn’t get into it, not sure if it had anything to do with the drugs or maybe a fear that it could have to much romance for me. I had a “friend” offer me a bag full of true crime…she hasn’t delivered….she probably won’t come through…maybe a new plea on freecycle…yeppers I think I’ll try that…besides I have plenty of books to offer  up in exchange….

    today part dos

    Pain ~ sucks big hairy monkey/donkey balls

    Tears ~ cry me a fucking river…I’ve done my part…enough for a dolphin to be happy

    Fears ~ Trick or treat….

    Life ~ sucks

    Doctors ~ are assholes

    Drugs ~ stuck in my gullet…seems like it anyway

    Buh Bye

    Pity Party…I was there, I am here, where were you?

    Multicultural learnings~

    Self Portraits ~ Goya & Kahlo
    Self Portraits ~ Goya & Kahlo

    Eerily twice in one day within minutes of paging and reading through a couple of books the name of Goya came up ~Francisco José de Goya y Lucientes was a Spanish painter and printmaker, both books had similar accounts of him and didn’t really go into much detail, I am familiar with the name and recognized it, but truthfully had never felt inclined to learn more about the actual artist, so I went online and looked up some of his work and a brief bio on him. What strikes me are the parallels I feel with the artist, loneliness, fear and social isolation, it just strikes me as odd that I would be drawn to this master of art.

    I am reminded with a past fascination with another artist I discovered back in the early 90’s. A fashion magazine had done a spread on Magdalena Carmen Frida Kahlo y Calderón, simply known as Frida Kahlo. I remember looking at the art that had been featured in the glossy pages of the magazine and being drawn by the art, featured were mainly self portraits, I felt I had to learn more. I remember going to the library and checking out an armful of books and devouring her life story. I was in awe of her life and what she had endured, but most of all her spirit was what attracted me to her. I could see it in her art, but it wasn’t just her spirit, it was her battle with pain, how she overcame what would have brought someone else down.

    These two artists brought a lot of joy to the world with their paintings, aside from that, one can look at the art and take away their own perceptions. I could not do any justice to their history through my writing but there is plenty written about both; their art can be seen online or better yet at any local library.

    I am happy to report that once again I am able to sit with a book, read and actually retain what I am reading. There will be more multicultural reading for me and gladly will share my thoughts on anything that captures my imagination.

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