Identity Theft

I am 11 poems into my goal of 31 poems in 31 days. This month, so far, has caused me to root around in my head more than usual. There are some pretty dark places in there, which are only put in contrast with the light places…the humorous places… my jokester. I have not delved into those places yet this month, but be assured, they are every bit as prominent as the dark places. The dark places seem to draw my attention when I am writing. I guess it because I believe if I face them head-on, I will somehow conquer them. Hows that working for you, you ask? Not very well.

Most of the poetry I have written in my life has come in times of great despair. Not this time. This time I have forced myself into the depths while I am at a relatively calm place in my life. It’s not all peaches and cream, mind you, but I am not in a depressive cycle.

One of the side effects of being raised by a raving lunatic narcissist is that when you look in the mirror, you see THAT person looking back at you. Some of my poems this month have tapped into my struggle for self identity: seeing myself in the mirror and getting MY voice in my head. It is a battle, I assure you.

Anyway, that’s it for today. More poems tomorrow, as I start the second 1/3 of the month.

~Keep Walking

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About ~Drew

I am a survivor of childhood torture. Each day, I put one foot in front of the other, moving forward. To do any less would spell my own destruction. My music/poetry/prose deal with the devastating effect of this kind of abuse on a human being: me. My experiences/thoughts/ideas/misconceptions are exposed here for all to see. Here. I am lain bare, naked, hidden only be the cloak of anonymity.
This entry was posted in coping, depression, introspection, recovery. Bookmark the permalink.

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