zetasyanthis: (Default)
2017-06-24 08:55 pm

Nightmares: Part II

CONTENT WARNING: Disturbing imagery lies within. May trigger anxiety / PTSD.
 
I'm not quite sure why I'm writing these down, but I think it has something to do with a) keeping tabs on my mental health, and b) hopefully finding some story inspiration in them. May as well get *something* out of them. >.< If you want the last update, you can find it here.
 
Note that these are not particularly coherent, but the shards of memory I had upon awakening. Only items in [] have been added as sort of editor's notes after the fact.
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
<Undated>
 
For some reason, I was at home [parents' place] (staying in my room) and everything was tense, but alright. I think at some point (don't remember it - reconstructed) I decided that I as done and basically stopped talking. TERRIFIED of mom, getting worse and worse, tension ramping exponentially. Somehow I was more comfortable with my dad, and invited him into room, gently told him. This was the last time, and he cried, but understood (or thought he did?). Couldn't leave, ever. >.< I will not ever return, not even for their funerals.
 
<Undated>
 
Terrified in a hotel room or dorm, racing between the levels. Trying to find the car and the right floor to exit on. Keep guessing wrong. Wrong elevator, wrong floor, strange signs on the floors. Shopping mall on one??? Parking below ground but above some rooms? Can't find it, just want to be safe! >.< Crying, desperate, sacred. Sobbing, dying, black. Crying, crying, crying, bleeding choking trying to hold neck together throat cut no voice. Crying, choking on blood.
 
<6/24/2017>
 
Chased around workplace by someone with a gun. Someone who wanted to murder me specifically. Very, very angry. Enraged. I think coworkers may have tried to help, but it still feels like they abandoned me. >.< Ended up racing up and down elevators trying to hide, then stairs (pairs non-intersecting?) next to elevators first, then another set at one end of the building? Other end had one too? [May be memories of College of Dupage?]
 
Eventually ended up racing down the hall on the third floor and recognized it. It was the second floor of the main building at my highschool. Ducked into (or tried to) one of the offices and ended up shot in the back, blew out a lung. Throat cut by a knife.
 
I died on the operating table. But somehow, some small piece of me refused to die. Extensive cybernetic surgery followed, replacing my brain, spine, and some other parts, and I eventually woke up, but I was dead. Some sort of precious, one-of-a-kind arithmetic engine was slotted into my brain, and I was finally able to cry. >.<
 
Before I passed out again, I held my kitty close and made them promise that when I finally died, they would give it [the engine] to my daughter, whose life it might finally save.
 
More crying, feeling of being ripped / whole, and woke up.
zetasyanthis: (Default)
2017-06-20 10:18 pm
Entry tags:

Zeta

I wrote this sort of accidentally, but my heart spoke, and I will always listen.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------



My name... is Zeta.
I'm not the same as most.
I've always been a little bit... /different/.
I've always been a little bit... /strange/.
Nobody knows what to make of me, least of all myself,
and nobody knows how I die.
 
<a pause>
 
Many have tried to slash my throat,
to bleed me dry as bone.
 
Many have pierced, ripped out their spears
as I but scream and moan.
 
Many have come to hear my cries,
to take their bloody turn.
 
Many have come to try to end this dragon
who will not burn.
 
My scars, beyond those mortal men
ever had right to cast,
have yet not hardened my dark heart.
My light in it holds fast.
 
I know they come because they fear,
they fear the wrath they hold,
the hate, disgust, they hold for me
but which rips /their/ dark hearts cold.
 
I know their pain; I've felt it too.
I've lived as they do now,
And though they ever strike at me
I've lived and live through /all/.
 
<a pause>
 
Some call me a sorceress,
Some call me a mage.
Whoever I am... /Whatever/ I am, I chose the road I walk.
 
I have chosen to heal,
to die as I see fit,
and so I stand,
a silent beacon against the night,
a candle held... and lit.
 
<fin>
zetasyanthis: (Default)
2017-05-07 05:26 pm

Nero

CW: Violence, Anxiety, Depression
 
Time for another weird one. (Feel free to blame The History of Rome podcast, which I've been re-listening to over the last week. Or, if you want to go meta, feel free to blame my anxiety, which has been spinning out of control the last couple weeks and demanding constant unhealthy input leading to re-listening to The History of Rome podcast?) Anyways, here's a weird one. It's going to be a mix of my typical status blogs, and a bit of unexpected empathy yet again. Think something in the vein of Orlando.
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Anxiety has been beating the fuck out of me lately. >.< I've had a few good days, but quite a lot more bad ones, and even though I'm making major progress in my therapy as of late, I'm just about ready to collapse. >.< From shame about my sexuality and very identity to depression that won't let me feel anything at all in the last two days, it just keeps coming. It feels like I'm being physically hammered on, as though someone is trying to break me with iron when they couldn't break me with tears. >.<
 
(Author's note: Yes, I am getting better, but it just doesn't feel like it right now. >.<)
 
Therapy on Thursday this week was particularly bad, and I was actually unable to get unstuck when we went searching through my past. (My therapist performs EMDR, meaning we go back and reprocess things, then return to the present.) In many ways, I'm still stuck there today, and it doesn't feel very good. >.< [VIOLENCE WARNING] I'm still lying there bleeding on the cold concrete floor, crying in a pool of my own blood and vomit, stab wounds oozing from my back, unable to do anything else but die. I'm still freezing, unable to see past the pain and tears, everything so, so dark. >.<
 
And so when I found an unexpected feeling of empathy yesterday, it really really shocked me. Because I wasn't the only one hurt, pressed into a life I only ever hated, and that ripped my soul apart. I wasn't the only one who wished she could hide from all the world, her music the only thing that kept her going. And you know what? I'd have made a terrible emperor too.
 
I feel very much like a dragon who's had her wings ripped off, and is bleeding out despite her best attempts. And it *hurts*. >.<
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
(Author's note: It feels out of place putting this here, but I know I'll be asked if I don't say. No, as far as I can recall, I've never been physically abused, but apparently that doesn't stop my dreams from ripping me apart. >.<)
zetasyanthis: (Default)
2017-04-30 06:12 pm
Entry tags:

Recent Reads: April 2017

So... I've been reading a lot this year, and wanted to share a few books that have really hit me hard in the last few months. I'm not going to touch on all of them (see my Goodreads for specific reviews), but I wanted to call out a few that were so very, very special. (As always, my complete (and freshly updated) recommends list is here.)
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
 
Technically, I read this last year, but it was so beautiful and so wonderful that I couldn't help but share it. Rue's given a pretty bad hand at the start, but she's amazing and eventually finds her way. I never expected a message of hope so profound from what I thought was a simple adventure book, but I should have known better after reading Ventus. Thanks, Karl. <3
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
The Slow Regard of Silent Things
The Wise Man's Fear
 
This series by Patrick Rothfuss absolutely blew me away. It's fantasy, and beautifully written, but what really makes it are the characters, torn and broken as they are. If anything, I read these too quickly, and should have given myself more time to cry while reading them. I do not even have the words to explain my heartbreak here.
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
This broke my heart in myriad ways, and I really needed to cry those tears. In many ways I'm both Regan *and* Luna, and I don't think I've ever cried so hard before.
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
 
Respect... Holy moly, is that a loaded word with me. I too grew up in a household that preached respect while really speaking of obedience. Can't say I was as brave as Pen in this book, but I wish I'd been. >.<
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
 
Different tack on this one... This is probably one of the most important books I've ever read as far as shaping my world view. It tells the story of a Jewish journalist who traveled to Germany after World War II to find out why what had happened had happened. My therapist actually picked up a copy of this one, and she liked it too. Hard read, but very topical, and I highly recommend it.
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
And because I follow this subreddit, here are a couple of *awesome* writing prompts that have come up lately!
 
 

zetasyanthis: (Default)
2017-03-25 06:15 pm

Shaking

(CW: Anxiety, Depression)
 
Been having a real shit couple of weeks, mental health wise. I've started to feel my anxiety more viscerally than before, rather than it just being something that influenced my actions and caused me paralysis. I suppose that's progress of a sort, but it hurts *so much*. >.<
 
Some of this is burnout, because some things at work have come to a bit of a head as of late. Though I was asked, as opposed to my last job, I'm still on the hook for far too much at the moment, and it's breaking me down. There's a ton of reasons for that, but I need to somehow have a conversation with my boss about trimming down my role. Needless today, I'm scared as fuck to have that talk, and the fact that my boss is a friend makes it even harder. >.<
 
But there's a lot more to it than that. I haven't been feeling myself in weeks, and apparently haven't really been listening to music for a couple months. I knew I hadn't been listening a lot lately, but when Dakota told me it was months, I was honestly shocked. I can't even remember the last time I felt this disconnected from it. >.< Considering that music is probably the main reason I'm even alive to write this, that's not a good sign. >.<
 
It feels stupid that I feel like this right now, because I've made so much positive progress as of late. My name change is more or less done (just the passport left). I've written more than ever before, and read so much more, too. Even my finances are finally recovering (slowly, but thanks to a now-healthy cat and a fantastic car mechanic). I even bought a portable A/C unit so I don't roast this summer, something I desperately wished for last year. >.<
 
But when you can't even feel safe and warm at home, cuddled up with your kitty in your arms, something's really, really wrong. >.< When your gaze just slides off, without really registering the joy and happiness in your puppy's eyes, something's *horribly* wrong. >.< And when you feel like crawling back into bed and just shaking until you die...  >.<
 
I don't know what's wrong with me right now, but I'm going to have to start taking drastic measures. The last time I felt happy and safe was back when my phone broke and I was "stuck in the 90s", having cut myself off from my laptop that same week. Pretty sure I'm going to have to do that again. >.< Hopefully the lack of insane amounts of input will help. >.<
 
Anyways, suffice to say that I have been having a horrible time as of late. Guess it shows a little in the fact that I'm at Wicked Grounds as I write this, because goodness knows it's been a long time since I wrote a ripped-open journal here. >.<
 
Anyways, I just wish I could wake up one morning refreshed. That I could have one good day to put myself back together. I hope it doesn't wait too long. >.<
zetasyanthis: (Default)
2017-03-05 02:24 pm
Entry tags:

Bloodstains (Unfinished)

The rage within that I now feel
compels me now to write,
to share a vision, bloody red,
of your last desperate night.
 
The rage within that rises strong
that rips throughout my heart,
it sings the song of pain and weight
and rips my mind apart.
 
The anger, despair, knife's edge deep
lodged deep within my heart
compels me now to put pen to
this most accursed art.
 
For I now write to share my pain
to spread my hate and rage
to shatter walls and countries vast
with bloody, ruined page.
 
And so I say, to you who chose
to you who chose this path
to you who hatred chose and mocked
you will now feel my wrath.
 
And when these words are done at last
you will not then survive
the blasted hulk of your rent bones
will shatter, and divide.
 
For now I summon wrath and hate
to make my message clear;
I summon futures now destroyed
and children, raised in fear.
 
I summon furies of the storm
and monsters dwelling deep
and now I sick them all on you
to haunt your broken sleep.
 
I summon demons, horned and black
to scar your heart as mine
until you shake and scream and cry
and drown yourself in brine.
 
I summon children who you've killed,
or who you've forced to live
abandoned, bereft, starving husks
who nothing would you give.
 
I summon your own futures now
and those of your own sons
of darkened dreams and lost last hopes
that you've at last undone.
 
I summon those who you have pushed
beyond their mortal coil
those who you chose to hurt yet more
and in whose name I toil.
 
You have no future, shining fast,
atop this slope of blood,
for nothing you have built will last
I now summon the flood.
 
The fear you feel, the rage you hate
that pierces deep inside
I look straight, deep in your eyes
and now the flames arise.
 
In front of you the flames reveal
the destruction of lives,
the children, listless, learned not,
your symphony of lies.
 
I sear your eyes with those you've killed,
with what you have have now wrought,
the hearts you've torn and ripped with glee
that you've left to rot.
 
I compel you to hold my gaze,
the fire in my eyes
a window into deepest pain
reflected in your skies.
 
I slaughter you with your own mind;
it's terror's truest form,
a demon, dark and glistening
a screaming, tearing swarm.
 
A future, black, I show you now
with torn and blackened skies
with storms unending and at last
your own children's death cries.
 
I show you their hearts full of pain
at what you have now done
and I commend you now to death.
Begone, you foul one.
 
And when you see what future holds
what hearts you have destroyed
and when you see your blood so cold
your soul will be devoid.
zetasyanthis: (Default)
2017-03-05 01:41 pm

Chaos

(Content warning: Depression, some politics, maybe anger? EDIT: Yeah, a *lot* of anger.)
 
I wish I could stay that the start of this year was going smoothly.
 
I kinda wish I could even say it was "Meh."
 
In reality, it's been absolutely fucking terrible. One of our kitties has been on death's door far too many times in the last few months; hidden memories are resurfacing, and it's taking everything I've got to just keep going. It's a heavy weight -- to keep moving forward, day after day.
 
Oh yeah, and the world's apparently gone mad.
 
I had such hope once, and things were genuinely getting better for people all across the world, and especially here. Yeah, some stuff absolutely fucking sucked, from violence against minorities all the way to the archaic and dysfunctional school system that we desperately need to rip apart and rebuild.
 
But we were making progress. People were safer. People were kinder. People worried less about what the future held. We were cleaning up our pollution, and breaking down walls, and even breaking down hearts.
 
And that's changed now.
 
All because of fear.
 
We have an administration that is utterly determined to destroy things, and the damage already hurts my heart. And it's brutal, because I know those affected by almost every one of these things. And because I know what it's like to be a child and to desperately need help and not receive it.
 
Here's the list so far:
 
* Revocation of Title IX transgender student protection guidance.
* Halting intake of all refugees while those programs are restructured.
* Muslim travel ban.
** Swatted down by federal court, luckily, but version 2.0 is due tomorrow.
* H-1B premium visa processing suspension.
** This immediately threatens the livelihoods of thousands and thousands of people.
* Massive immigration crackdowns, sometimes picking up parents after they drop their kids off at school.
* New this week, plans to intentionally separate undocumented children from their families at the border.
* Nationwide (state-level) assaults on abortion access and voting rights.
* Massive attacks against news agencies, calling them "The enemies of the American people"
 
And this is to say *nothing* of the abuses of power in state governments around the country.
 
How you can call yourself a human being and do these things? How can you even call yourself a human being if you don't fight these things? Forgetting even the effects these things are going to have on the adults, can you imagine what this is going to do to the children? This is going to break so many tiny minds, minds who have no capacity to understand why someone would wish them pain. It will ruin their lives to their have parents lose jobs and be deported, to have them disappear shortly after dropping you off at school, to have them ripped away and held in separate facilities, to be stuck in limbo while on travel and unable to return to safety. It will rip the hearts of teenagers from their chests when they are terrified and shaking, when they learn that they are pregnant or beaten for their eyes.
 
We are so terrified of their eyes, their eyes that only ask for hope and compassion. We are terrified of ourselves, and for ourselves, and for others that we care about. And we have to stop this, however we can, and with all the fury we can muster.
 
I swear by all the gods and men and stars now in the sky that on this day when hope was lost I would not let it die.
zetasyanthis: (Default)
2017-02-26 09:25 am

Kvothe

CW: Mental damage, mentions of suicide.
 
It's been a while since I've written a journal, and it hasn't really been much fun. Some good things have happened, some bad ones, and I'm pretty sure I've been hurting myself by not working some of this out on paper. This is my attempt to deal with some of that.
 
You're probably wondering about the title of the journal, and I should probably try to make some sense of that.
 
I recently read a couple books that have kicked me a bit out of sorts. The Name of the Wind, The Slow Regard of Silent Things, and The Wise Man's Fear devastated me in a way I never expected. There's... a lot of pain in those books, and there's a lot of pain in my heart, and I don't know how to deal with it either. There are a lot of days where I just want to curl up and die.
 
I want to cry, and shake, and cry and hide... to disappear completely. I want my mind to stop grinding against itself like shattered glass, screaming breaking noises, and screeching noises, and screaming and screaming and screaming until I finally die. I fight insanity *every* *single* *day*, the loss of self and heart and home that seems to be ever stronger. I hold death itself at bay with fear and force of will, and fear the loss of myself far, far more than that of my body. And yet, I know what the grip of insanity feels like, and it would kill me in an instant.
 
I just want to stop being ripped apart inside. I want to be able to function as a normal human being. I want safety, and sanity, and home and love and quiet. I want to be able to listen to music without it having to be a shield against my fear. I want to be able to feel my cat's love, and my girlfriend's, and that of all those who try to tell me they care. I want to stop being broken inside, and I want to cry. >.<
zetasyanthis: (Default)
2017-01-11 09:17 pm
Entry tags:

Yes, it really matters.

While discussing time off requests (related to my name change) with my boss today, he kind of stared at me and asked if all of this was really worth it. I... didn't know how to answer him, how to truly communicate what it means or how important it is. And I know he didn't mean to injure me by asking, but I've been hurting pretty badly since he asked. Hopefully, this can help.
 
--------------------
 
Yes it really matters.
Yes, it hurts inside.
Yes, to all the fees and care
to heal my broken mind.
 
Yes, to doctor's visits.
Yes, to DMV.
Yes, to lines unending,
so at last I can be.
 
Yes, I say, or tell myself,
the one who hurts inside,
the tortured, wounded little girl
who's barely still alive.
 
Yes, to tears unending.
to terror, shaking, cold.
Yes, I'm terrified of this,
but my heartstrings must hold.
 
I don't know how, but I must try
to live with what I have
to give myself a chance at life
as I now truly am.
 
Mere weeks ago, a mem'ry came,
myself, at four years old.
My heart was broken even then,
I could not fit the mold.
 
I did not know for longest time
how to describe my pain
or even what transgender was
my hurt had not a name.
 
Anxiety, in spades, you see,
conspired me to grip
with daggers deep within my heart
and threat that they would rip.
 
And so it took a thousand days,
and even more besides,
before I trusted anyone
and let them see inside.
 
I trusted you; I trust you now;
I trust you with my life;
for though you may not understand,
others would my throat knife.
 
I know it's hard to understand.
I know it makes no sense.
But know the changes you see now
are just to match the rest.
 
The part of me that hides in fear
on almost every day,
now risks her heart to open
and to attempt to say,
 
"It's not that I'm becoming.
It's that I've always been.
And every step that helps affirm
helps my mind learn again."
zetasyanthis: (Default)
2017-01-02 07:39 pm
Entry tags:

Updated recommendation list!

This is just a little redirect post. I finally updated my recommendations list at the end of 2016. Go take a look! :)

https://zetasyanthis.dreamwidth.org/2257.html
zetasyanthis: (Default)
2016-12-28 12:18 am

Defeat is not surrender

Defeat is not surrender,
nor is darkness light.
Though pain may overwhelm us
it cannot stop our bright.

Defeat is not surrender,
nor is the battle lost.
Defeat is not surrender,
though we have paid great cost.

For in our hearts a forest grows,
its branches strong and green,
and our forests will grow again
though all we hear is keen.

It seems to drown all we know.
It seems to black out light.
But if you listen carefully,
your heart will guide you right.

Much pain endured, many hearts lost
we've hurt and we've despaired,
but you are stronger than you know.
You wear the heroes' pale.

Music, as strong as candlelight
that lights until the dawn
will honor and will shine with you
till all your fears are gone.

And if you listen closely,
and if you listen close,
it will teach you a secret,
the language magic spoke.

That language that we long thought dead
that death and pain had beat
is not something that can be killed
and it still sings as sweet.

As sweet as music ever was
and once again shall be
you must now listen - careful, close -
to what it says, I plea.

For we did lose the hearts and minds
of those we thought our friends
and if we hope for peace to come
them we must understand.

I know I ask a thing absurd
a thing that rhymes with pain
but if you want a kinder world
you must not now abstain.

But do not compromise too much
or let the pain drown out
the secret words of dreaming light
your forest must still sprout.

For we must hold the line -
strong, true -
that they would see us yield
that they would trample in the dirt
and vicious power wield.

We must not fear to hold the line
against those who seek cold
unflinching power, reckonings,
vendettas grim and old.

And we must not fear to hold firm
against those who don't think
who put some power's word above
those they push to brink.

For those you love,
and those who you like,
and those who you hope love you,
whose dreams are made of candle light,
whose forests live in you,
they need you now.
They need you strong.
They need to hold your hand
as they stand with you and with me
to save our broken land.
zetasyanthis: (Default)
2016-12-26 04:51 pm

Nightmares

[Writer's note: I made myself write this one, because I need too, not because it's comfortable. Disturbing, violent imagery follows. You've been warned.]

The last couple of nights have been rough ones. Nightmares, one actually recurrent (the first time I've actually had one of those), have haunted me pretty badly and left me exhausted, even after what should be a solid night's rest. Thankfully, I'm writing this after two nights of relatively safe sleep, but if I tell you that I took my emergency Lorazepam for the first time, I think you'll understand.

The first night, I dreamt of fire... fire and water. I was a marine, or some manner of soldier on a river with (indistinct) others, and the area we were in was very hot. Gunships raced the skies above, and though I could see everything both from the ground and a bird's eye view simultaneously, I could feel the adrenaline racing through my heart. The dream lasted hours, finally disappearing into a fog after a last massive spike of terror. A massive airship, a bomber, I think, was shot down above us and came crashing down into the river. I tried to dodge it, and *mostly* made it, but so many died. The entire river erupted in flames and terror and crying. >.< I could smell the burnt flesh, and the screams ripped into my heart like a knife.

The second night was even worse, though I cannot remember it now. Recalling the first to write what I have has blanked it from my memory, but only for now, I suspect. >.< The one recalled above was my first recurrent nightmare, and I am absolutely certain the second will revisit me again too. >.<

As for the Lorazepam... I took it on the third night, and it worked, much as I was afraid it might. I had the most restful sleep I've had in what is probably months, and that's a dangerous thing to finally see. >.< The fact that I slept through any negative effects it would have had on me means my first impression was 100% positive, and that's not good. It's hard not to take it now.

That said, I'm not going to take it again, unless I absolutely need it, and I'm going to be speaking to my doctor about it at the next visit. I'm honestly really scared that it made that much of a difference. I actually felt like a safe, happy human being for most of the next day.
zetasyanthis: (Default)
2016-12-22 05:40 pm

I Don't Know How

I don't know how to shine with joy.
I don't know how to weep.
I don't know how to holiday.
All joy at last seems cheap.

I don't know how to dance and laugh.
I don't know how to cry.
I don't know how to bear this pain,
and I fear that I'll die.

I don't know what family should mean
I don't know what joy lies
in arms of those that should love me
and in those bonds that tie.

My heart, you see, is broken now
as broken as it has been
and I do not know how to heal
the wounds that just won't mend.

I don't know how to fill the hole
or how to find the warmth
that in my distant mem'ry calls
when I still had self worth.

In those days I knew safety.
In those days I knew warmth.
In those days I knew fireplace
and tree beside the hearth.

I use to light that tree you see.
I use to light it all.
From tiny spiral deep within
to star above it all.

But somewhere along that long way
I lost something not found.
And mind, my mind, shattered at last
as though it fell to ground.

I don't know when the fear blew up
I don't know why I can't
seem to escape this curse of mine
with deepest heart-felt chant.

I found a Mawr, I found a wolf,
who turned out to be dragon.
And yet in my deep heart of hearts
my heart is rent by canyon.

I miss a fam'ly that I have,
but that I've never felt.
I miss that which I should have had
and that my fear they'd melt.

But I don't know how to advance
in face of pain I feel.
I just want my fam'ly at last
to really feel real. >.<
zetasyanthis: (Default)
2016-12-21 03:20 pm

Hurting (Part 3)

I haven't been taking care of myself again, and now I'm paying the price. Been missing my meds here and there, letting other things like work become more important than self-care. (Note: not a lot of misses, but more than I should have.)

And so I'm pretty messed up.

The damned thing is that I usually can't tell immediately, or even quickly, when I've gone off the rails. It takes a while for my brain to clue in that something is wrong. And something is wrong today. Something was wrong yesterday, too, which is why I've forced myself to stop today when I'm supposed to be working. And stopping is really, really hard. The last two days, I've spent, respectively, ~14 and ~10 hours working, way too many hours in too short a period of time. I've been hyper-focused on it, and even now my brain is chewing on what I was working on in the background, refusing to stop. I justified that time, saying that I wanted to learn what I was working on, but it was still far too much.

When my brain gets like this, stopping is really, really hard. I could literally kick my VM back on, or boot up my work laptop and work until I literally self-destruct, much like I did around June, 2015. If I gave in, I'd work until I cried and shook and shattered, crying into my pillow for my terrible shattered mind.

And so, I'm trying not to get there. I'm trying, as hard as I can, to stop that cycle.

I already took a couple of steps today to take care of myself, but I'm not quite sure how not to shake right now. I'm trying to sit here in Starbucks until I can relax, but it almost seems like I need to go take melatonin and crash out to sleep. (I'm trying not to do that, too, since messing up my sleep schedule will make things even worse.)

And so, I sit here, hurting. >.<
zetasyanthis: (Default)
2016-12-12 09:42 pm

Fall

Fall of city, fall of heart,
fall of those we trusted,
fall of hope and candlelight,
and blasted hellscapes, rusted

fall of light, and fall of life
and fall of dust and heartbeats,
the world watches and pretends
they cannot see us deletes.

For that is what we would become
would not with dear time's passing
the world know we fought and bled,
and at the last, and died gasping.

We sought to stand as you have claimed
neighbor helping neighbor
but some amongst us with their hate
pushed you away, our savior.

And still we stand, now at the last,
white helmets far from gleaming
hoping against hope these poor souls
may one day 'member, dreaming

that though we lost and though we died
and though the world now darkened
these souls may dream of candlelight
and too kinship, then, hearken.

These tiny souls, these innocents,
the bullets closing in
cannot begin to understand
my weeping violin.

The choking dust is closer now,
air heavy, harsh with gas.
Barrel bombs, mortars, missile strikes
are sure to be our last.

But while the blue sky lives somewhere
somewhere trees are green
I'll raise music to candlelight
and with my strings, now keen.

For we will not escape this fate,
the shelling, far too rough,
our hopes and dreams, now bleeding out
are made of kinder stuff.

Remember us, these children here,
when we are dead and gone.
Remember dreams of candlelight.
Remember... comes the dawn.
zetasyanthis: (Default)
2016-12-11 05:59 pm

Shield of the West

Magics, magics, come to me.
Come and stop this dark.
You are needed now, now *here*
to shield and heal the heart.

Come and shimmer 'long bows of glass,
through deep stone entomb-ed vaults,
come shimmer strong and shine with light,
and this darkness now halt.

You see my wounds, you see my blood,
you see my heart ripped open,
and yet you see not where it seems
hope's light is still now woven.

A knife may in my deep-heart be,
but if you think that mortal,
you know not what dragon you face,
"I will heal," I chortle.

Now, you who stood and you who saw
and you who still saw nothing
you who did not care (did not know!),
can you still tell me "nothing?".

And you who did... you who chose dark
I extend hands towards you.
I seek the peace within your heart
that you long sought to undo.

I seek the cage within your chest,
the bars that lock your heart.
I seek them now with scalpel sharp,
and I well know my art.

The pain of others you have seen,
and yet you have avoided,
the pain that haunts their very eyes
will not by you be voided.

You will now look. You will now see,
the light behind that pain.
And pain you'll at last recognize,
to all our future gain.

For empathy is stronger still
than boundaries you construct.
Those borders, walls, and fortresses,
I will now make destruct.

With scalpel sharp, with shining blade,
woven with hope's own light,
I'll plunge this deep into your heart
where you are locked in night.

That cage you built, that made you "strong,"
I will now see destroyed.
This shimmering dark shadow-light,
reduces men to boys.

But I will not your heart now harm
though you boundaries lay shattered,
I stem the bleeding, hold the light,
your injuries... so tattered.

I know not if you'll now survive,
now that you can now see.
I only know that on future nights
I'll carry you with me.

I raise my eyes to see yet more,
to see you standing 'fore me.
Another mind, another heart
wounded at least, but now free.

You sought to harm, you sought to hide
you sought to keep away
the very thing that I now bring,
and it comes home to stay.
zetasyanthis: (Default)
2016-12-10 04:58 pm

Letter to the General Assembly

Hi there!

My name is Zeta Syanthis, and I just wanted to inquire about the status of HB 6073. I'm a transgender individual who was born in Chicago a number of years back and am in the process of updating all my documentation. (I even have my court date on February 17th!) I can update pretty much everything the way the laws are currently written, but despite being on hormone replacement therapy for nearly a year now (and in therapy for longer than that), the laws in Illinois say I need to have surgery to update my birth certificate.

Now, I'm thinking about that, but it's obviously a really big decision, and I'm really not sure right now. I know HB 6073 was introduced last year and has made it at least through the second reading, but I've not seen any progress beyond that. I know there's a lot of messy politics and stuff going on these days, but it'd really be a huge mental help if I could just get this done, forever. >.< Can you help me out and see what can be done?

If there's any additional information I can provide, or anything I can do to help the effort to pass this, please, please let me know what I can do. I don't think I can possibly communicate how much it means, but I'm pretty sure if I could, you'd be crying for a week. >.<

Thank you,
Zeta Syanthis
zetasyanthis: (Default)
2016-12-10 03:34 pm

Levels of Discomfort

All my life, I have feared the power of words, the emotions and actions they can induce. I have feared my words, what I might do if I ever got the chance to bloom and live as I desired, what secret hate could twist what I would write. I am terrified that somewhere within my heart lies violence, unchecked, an anger that would burn all it touches.

I bring this up, not to distract from the topic at hand, but to acknowledge the force that has kept, and sometimes still keeps, me from writing. I bring it up because it is necessary to speak about, to confront, and to heal, something I do not yet know how to do. And I bring it up because mercy begs me to do it, as words have power far beyond our own.

I had a pretty bad week this week, between the anxiety and crushing sadness that felt like a ten-ton weight upon my chest. Yes, I accomplished much in spite of that, but it all felt hollow, and nothing against what is coming. And so I spoke with my therapist about my pain on Thursday night, trying to understand how to cope and yet move on. This is the story of that discussion, and so much more.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I don't remember all the details of what we spoke of, of exactly how I felt that night. I do feel the echoes of hollowness even now, though, and I feel a need to stand in my defense. (Editors note: Not against you, but against the depression and sadness that would crush me to death.)

One of the topics we talked about was my poetry, and levels of discomfort. Zoe suggested that a 6 on a scale of 10 was about right for maximum discomfort while being kicked into action, and that too much more would reduce that effectiveness too much. (I figure I'm sitting around a 7 as I write this.) Her going in position was that too much emotional intensity, too much pain, would just cause complete collapse, and I have to admit she's right. The line between being informed and being able to function is a difficult one to walk, and I'm usually on the wrong side of that line. Empathy is *so* *important*, but it's destroying me, and I have to find a way to push it down so I can help.

Why is it destroying me? Because this current world has pain on every side, and I've known all of them. I know what it means to feel alone and abandoned, to feel as though the world is being torn asunder. I know what it means to believe, as Mike Pence does, to an absolute and uncompromising level. I know what it feels like to propagate that discrimination, something I am deeply ashamed of. And I know what it feels like to hurt, or be hurt, by those you love.

I know the pain on every side, and it is killing me.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

How am I fighting this?

The only way I know how. I'm fighing this with words, with happiness, and butterfly wings. I learned Thursday that writing, while leaving me exhausted, actually helps me gain spoons back, and is the honest-to-goodness source of the fire that I bring into everyday life. I need to write... to live.

So let's talk about levels of discomfort, and let me ask you a question, if I may. It's the same one I asked Zoe.

On a scale of 1-10, what is the maximum emotional intensity level my writing has induced in you? And what level do you think I was at when I wrote it?

By way of explanation, I ask because I want to know where about I am. Zoe and I disagreed initially on what level is sometimes required, but I responded by referring to the actual target of my words. I seek to strike the cages around our hearts, those things that would prevent us from healing, or helping others. I seek to break them, to strike so surgically that the wound is utterly mortal. And I seek them with all the violence at my command. I seek a 10, to change the worlds of those within its resonance.

And yet, I must remember mercy.
zetasyanthis: (Default)
2016-12-08 12:25 am

Nightmare

I promised myself I'd write this today, and having failed to do so so far, I just remembered right before going to bed.

I had a hell of a nightmare this morning, and I think I need to write it down.

I can't remember exactly why, but I apparently travelled home to may parent's house for the holidays, staying in my old room, or maybe my brother's. My parents were not open-minded. The whole situation was *extremely* tense, with awkward non-acknowledgements, tense dinner situations, and everything just as miserable as I remember it. I was absolutely terrified the entire time, freaking out about why I'd come, why I'd stayed there of all places, and what I could do to escape. I'd do anything to escape.

I remember my father raging, his hands trembling as he forcefully ate, as though the steak in front of him was the cause of his offense... as though if he buried himself in it enough, I wouldn't be there anymore. I remember that fear. That same scene played out the night I told him, the night I ran, virtually in terror, from his car back to my room. I remember my heart pounding as I slammed the deadbolt, his imagined footsteps in my heart. I remember crying. >.<

If you ever have any children of your own, please... please love them. >.< And be gentle in that love. >.<
zetasyanthis: (Default)
2016-11-30 08:50 pm

Shimmerspark

We enter times of darkness now,
the wounded and the shaken,
the times that would us now destroy,
if we should not awaken.

But still I hear dear freedom's call.
I hear its march and chime
and if you now just listen close
you'll see it still yet shines.

Now as one, we will stand tall,
against these men of pain,
against all those who hurt our joy,
who bring tears like the rain.

If I must lead, let it be now.
Let me stand strong and tall,
Let us together break these chains
Let not the darkness fall.

For we have beauty, dreams, and light,
and they have none they fight for.
They've only pain, a pain that binds
a pain that we have cure for.

I say again, we know it's cure,
for we have dreams and light,
for we have suffered and grown more whole,
and bloomed against the night.

They think they know our weakness now,
and we may well be weak,
but they know not the strength within
that now, at last, must speak.

They know not resolve, know not strength;
they cannot see our heartstrings.
But they will hear them nonetheless,
the music from that well-spring.

But never pain we seek of them,
though pain we may yet cause,
for hearts damaged well beyond ours
there is no healing gause.

Empathy, as much a blade
as any surgeon's tool
shall be our instrument of peace,
as we now fight this duel.

With broken hearts and tear-filled eyes
we'll weather coming storm.
And when the clouds at last do lift,
the dawn will yet be warm.

Today our task seems bleak, I know
but hear me now and stand.
I will not give into the hate
that strides upon this land.

Though I am angry, hurt, and sad,
I'll not respond in kind.
I'll stand and speak of love
to those with injured mind.

A candle now, lit on my desk
now stands against the dark.
It will not flicker, will not dim
that shining, tiny spark.

This battle now, waged all in words
I shall now t'last commence.
With shining heartstrings resonanant
in beauty's firm defense.

I ask you now to join as one
to stand against the dark
to stand with me against what comes
to hold your shimmer-spark.