my demons. #poetry

I cannot
let my demons go.
I need them.
They make me
who I am.
Without them
I am nothing.


Β©2017 what sandra thinks
[image source unknown]

I couldn’t resist including this… one of my favorite songs…

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About what sandra thinks

Sandra is a writer, blogger, poet, artist, emotional disaster. She thinks far too much and sleeps far too little. Sandra lives in the Northeastern U.S. but dreams of an oceanfront home in Hawaii where she could learn to surf. She loves music, brutal honesty, coffee, and the color black. She hates insincerity, beer, whipped cream, and facebook. And she is uncomfortable talking about herself in the third person.
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34 Responses to my demons. #poetry

  1. You can keep them. Just gotta learn how to control them, and use them for your purposes, not the other way around. Show them that you’re the boss. πŸ’ͺ🏻

    Liked by 2 people

    • Yeah… control is a problem for me. The demons do take over…

      Liked by 1 person

      • Demons aren’t necessarily bad, especially for creative inspiration. You get control of them though, and the sky’s the limit. πŸ˜ƒ

        Liked by 1 person

        • For the last few days, it’s been hard to write anything that’s not incredibly depressing. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me. I have a few ideas but I don’t know…

          Liked by 1 person

          • Just write. Something. Anything. It may suck, per your own standard, but can inspire better. Maybe? I don’t know exactly how it works for writers.

            Liked by 1 person

            • I wrote last night and it was scary. Like, all demon, no hope. Man, I am never going to be “well”. I don’t think I can handle any more med changes so I don’t even want to tell my NP. I don’t know what to do. Sorry… I am going to shut up now.

              Liked by 1 person

              • You need to tell her. I know it sucks changing mess and having no good result come from it, but she needs to know if you’re going down the rabbit hole.

                Liked by 1 person

                • It just seems like everything else she tries gives me some horrible side effect I can’t live with. There’s nothing left. I seriously have no idea what else she could possibly do. Sometimes, I think there is no solution.

                  Liked by 1 person

                  • Oh man, that sucks. Side effects are crazy with these meds. I hate this, all of this, for you. There’s gotta be something that helps. No? πŸ˜•

                    Liked by 1 person

                    • I don’t even want to bother trying anymore. I feel like my mission… the only one that makes sense… is to accept that this is my life… not try to fix it. But sometimes, thinking that I’m going to feel this way forever makes me want to stay in bed forever.

                      Liked by 1 person

                    • What about your therapist? Not going back?

                      Liked by 1 person

                    • After weeks and weeks of wasted co-pays, I got to where he basically said I have to take a leap of faith on at least one thing as a jumping off point. I have to fake it until I believe it. The problem is… THAT IS MY WHOLE PROBLEM! I can’t do that. If I could do that, I never would have gone to him in the first place. All it did was further my belief that therapy is useless. I don’t know that I’d ever see anyone again… but it definitely wouldn’t be him.

                      Liked by 1 person

                    • Man. There’s gotta be something that helps. What makes you smile? Laugh? Happy? Anything that brightens your day?

                      Liked by 1 person

                    • Coffee? No, really, that can’t be enough because I have plenty of that every day. I swear to you, I am honestly having a hard time thinking of anything.

                      Here’s something messed up — I sometimes feel better when I’ve gone for a walk (I wish I was a runner, but that’s a whole separate matter)… but I am so down I can’t get myself to go… and my foot has been bothering me so I’m not even sure I can go. So no matter how much better it might make me feel, I can’t seem to do it.

                      Here is the thing. I get my happiness from others. I know it’s wrong but I don’t know how to be happy on my own. This is a huge part of why I wish my husband was more attentive. I know my happiness is not his responsibility… but he’s all I have. I feel like I’m good when someone else tells me they think I am. One time I went to visit my mom and she told me my hair looked beautiful. I felt good that day. I know I have great hair but it doesn’t make me feel good unless someone else tells me. It’s not just physical things… it’s everything. The more I try to explain this, the more pathetic I sound!

                      Liked by 1 person

                    • You don’t sound pathetic. You sound human.

                      But, if you think about it, in somewhat unusual terms, you have people tell you you’re good, probably daily. Right here. That should count. Right? πŸ˜ƒ

                      Liked by 1 person

                    • Oh, trust me… it’s pathetic.

                      Yes… the people here. That does count. I write nice poetry… my fiction is decent. Once in a while, I’m even funny. Hearing those things helps a lot. But I’m ashamed to admit that I’m incredibly needy. It’s like I need a little bird on my shoulder constantly telling me how amazing and beautiful I am. (Not a bird, literally. Creatures that fly freak me out.) It’s pathetic that I need that. And I can’t be that for myself because I can say the words… tell myself all sorts of wonderful things… but I don’t believe them. They can’t possibly be true unless someone else believes them.

                      Separate from all that, it bothers me that I don’t get this from my husband… he has told me I am beautiful once in the entire time I’ve known him… at our wedding.

                      Because of all this, when I write fiction… the heroine is always being told how beautiful and amazing she is. Not that anything I write is remotely realistic…

                      Liked by 1 person

                    • You are quite the enigma. I don’t know what to say. But, I like you. I’m certain there are many others who do as well. I just wish you’d see it yourself. You don’t have to be anything more than you.

                      As for your husband, I really don’t understand that. I just don’t. 😦

                      Liked by 1 person

                    • It’s okay that you don’t know what to say… there really isn’t anything. I’m amazed you say as much as you do — most would have run by now. But you ‘listen’ to me… and I appreciate that so much. I’m not sure what’s so screwed up in my head that I can’t trust myself… believe in myself. I think I always thought eventually someone would figure it out and help me fix it (like, a professional)… but that has proven to be a pipe dream…

                      Liked by 1 person

                    • I don’t mind listening at all. Just wish you’d have some more good stuff to talk about. I’m not going anywhere though. 😊

                      Liked by 1 person

                    • I know… I’m sorry πŸ™

                      Liked by 1 person

                    • You don’t need to apologize. I didn’t say that for my benefit. I want that good stuff for you. 😊

                      Liked by 1 person

                    • Thank you πŸ™‚ Me, too!

                      Liked by 1 person

    • All you have is your fire
      And the place you need to reach
      Don’t you ever tame your demons
      But always keep them on a leash – Hozier

      Liked by 2 people

  2. magarisa says:

    I can relate so well to this.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I don’t totally understand the demon thing, although I admit to having dark moments. I truly think my medication and therapy keep me on an even keel although lately I feel as though my creativity is gone. I can’t bring myself to write much. I think the blank screen is frightening me! I just heard that song in the car yesterday and I love it!

    Liked by 1 person

    • I guess for me, the darkness seems to come to life and take over… like demons. I don’t know if that’s how anyone else would define it but it’s the only way I can think of… And lately it feels like there’s nothing else inside me but them. What’s scary is that I’d be worse without medication but some days, worse doesn’t seem possible! I’m just having a terrible few days… don’t mind me…

      I’m sorry about the creative slump. I wish I knew how to help… ❀ I’ve been trying to write the same scene for days and I still hate it! I think I need to completely forget the first 50 versions and totally start from nothing.

      I love that song, too. πŸ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

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