out of the ash box

i am more, so much more than just a plath wannabe in life
you are here, fighting for every second with my body and my being
i want them with you too but i don’t think you understand me or my strife
i came out of the ash box, i came out of somewhere that left me screaming

started something trivial, now i’d be crying if my body would allow
let me for months past over anything other than a stung eye like an onion
i remember years ago, sitting by the ash, i don’t really know how
but i remember the sketches and burning them in the fire that burned running

i remember the princess and how her love was tortured and then how i was scarred
i remember scoffing because what else can you do when your fairytale is the old kind
the kind that teaches you a lesson! the kind that disney had in their future but so far
i reject love because then you never hurt when you are hurt, when you are left behind

is it normal to tell your child you will leave them? is it normal to do it?
i don’t remember much but i remember enough to be sad
and i remember sketching torture like i’d seen, like you’d showed me, like i knew fit
my life in the ash box when i crawled back in with my skinny short limbs, bad

i am less, so much less than you taught me i am, which is nothing
i am free, never free, because i have complex damn ptsd…well who cares
another victim is just another victim even when their martyr complex is strong
and i am here, but i don’t know if i want to be, but i don’t dare

i remember burning up, watching the flames lick my fingertips as i numbed myself to heat
i remember throwing the evidence of my thoughts and anything i dared be away
i remember keeping the rest in notebooks too miniature to read
i don’t remember much but i sure remember hurt, even as the edges fray

oh! how dare you train me to be so afraid of being critical even to this day
even after my brain has finished developing and my body has hurt for many years
oh! how dare i be critical of you after all you have done for me, after all i have stayed
i suppose i’m awful and i should be punished for my ways and for my tears

am i a demon? no. yes. no. you used to love me, i think. i don’t remember very well.
how could someone do so much damage to family, i thought
and then, ten years ago to the month, i went into the psych ward and learned their spell
they pretend to listen but their words show they never learned anything they didn’t want

i’m okay but i am also never and i am also holding onto the knife’s edge with my fingertips
as they bleed i continue because how else could i behave in this almost 2019 moment
i’m dying and i am feverish and i tell lies because feelings are real monsters made out of shit
hallucinations that were never there become real distressing excuses for being spent

what do you do when your brain falls apart and they threaten to take everything you want away
when do you give in when you know that you need to be sliced open soon
for your own good of course, take the teeth out, remove the rot, let the others stay
a little bit rotten and drilled and filled and buffed and obviously not a boon

that is me, i am my own teeth, and every cell in my body! they fight, except when they don’t
i wonder often if that is your fault, it would help if i had my memories
so i cling to the ones i have: in the ash box again, burning paper just to stay warm, i can’t
holding fingers to moments to see if i turn to ash too, of this i will never be free

so i guess we’re back here right now

hi, Sugarette dot net. My Sugarette readers,

I tried to carve out a space for myself elsewhere on the internet, a space that could basically be entirely mine, a wordpress dot com blog, and that was costly…and eventually I moved my blogging/posts to my patreon, and stopped blogging publicly. I set it up so that both sugarette dot net and zelie dot co domains pointed towards my patreon. They still are…maybe not for long.

I have one patron already! It helps. If you can, if you want to, feel free to consider becoming my patron, and as a aresult seeing more content from me, but I’m not here solely to plug my means of making money.

I want to make this blog more about mental health again. I miss having a reader base that so heavily consisted of neurodivergent individuals. I want to provide tutorials for coping techniques, etc.

I want to write more – I’ve been shooting some footage and many photographs, mostly with my dslr, although some with my slr…I want to write more – more poetry, more blog posts, etc.I might put my (depressing) poetry on cherrymess and allpoetry, but really I want it on patreon, so, there’s that.

So I’m sat here drinking coffee, and I put not even vanilla but chocolate ensure in it in lieu of creamer or milk. My mind is going too fast, in the anxious way. I am trying to save things from falling apart but I feel like I, myself, am falling apart. If I return to the hospital, my boyfriend will be at work now, and harder to reach by phone anyways. Most hospitals do not allow much cellphone access. I don’t even know if I need the hospital, or respite, or anything – maybe something, but a higher level of care, maybe not.

I’m too fuzzy for much writing right now, but here are a couple of photos of my new pin board:

comment if you want to know who a pin is by and I’ll dig up the info!

As you can see, I also now have a gaming table. There have been quite a few changes in my life! I’ll update you all more later – either here or in a more personal blog setting that I’d link, as always

My mental health is so weird lately. I am a mix of anxious and depressed, usually one moreso than the other but it varies which is on top. My eating disorder is, for lack of a better word, ??? right now.  Other things are also bad. I’m safe, I’m managing, it’s just bad.

I have been playing kind of a lot of mtg and mtg arena. It’s a time waster (and in the case of the paper cards, a money drain), but a fun one.

Okay, I don’t have energy to write more right now, but I do have the spoons to work on other BTS online/pc related work in order to be more ready with good updates when I come back to post here again.

I love you all.

xoxo,
Z

thinking about self harm without actually self harming

i am full, i feel full
of bitterness and maggot-like creatures
i am rotting from the inside out
my organs are foul with the stench of fear
i wish to shine like gold
i watch myself in a mirror
dull instead of shiny yet in pain

is there anything more ugly than me
is there anything more beautiful
than some perfect tragedy executed excellently
i wish to feel okay
safe and secure in the knowledge that
i will be okay (i might)
but i wait and continue to rot

a mp3 file sings sweet promises
mainlined to my ears
to get to my brain, to my heart
i listen but do i believe?
doubt is a terrible monster
i know with time i will be
rotting but healing too

it doesn’t matter if you lie to me
(except the world depends on it)
(my world) (the one that i live in)
watch me take hurt seriously, watch
as i make my skin bleed
solemn but unwise, my attempts only
make me rot faster. nothing else

my pills can’t stop me from accelerating this time
your words can’t pull things off my skin
like invisible leeches and visible blades
my skin can pull apart and away and
i don’t want you to know how cold
i can be when i am scared
how cold i have been to other people

i am so very, very, very, very
that and afraid
does it matter that i am afraid?
will you be here later to pull off my invisible leeches
to pry them from my skin like
i once watched a man pry a tick
but i never called him or saw him after that day

you, i feel, are different
even if only in the sense that i had a feeling
a hope that you were something i never
hoped for or wished for
it felt too selfish.
i suppose i did it anyway subconsciously
but today i am rotting for you

i want to live and heal and breathe
so marvelously; with such strength!
i want to conquer my fears and become
better faster stronger
more mentally agile and less mentally unstable
but i rot, rot, rot
i might lose what’s left of my mind before you’re here

a photo update

I don’t update this blog enough. It’s because of my depression, mostly, which is ironic since this is a mental health-centric blog.

I actually updated maybe a week ago but the post felt like it came from too dark and numb of a place so I reverted it to a draft, as I have done with several of my posts over the years.

Anyways.

So, we all know that I’m in a bad place; I’m doing badly. I hate waking up most days and facing reality. I have things that make it better – earl grey tea with creamer, my emotional support animal and cat-daughter Xena, whose seventh birthday is coming up this February (!), and other things, like plans. Short term, like today I am looking forward to trying a guided meditation using an app on my meditation cushion (which is pink, of course – most things I own are). Longer term, I have goals, but probably too many that I’m unsure which I care the most about, so I don’t want to blog about that right now.

I have some sooc (“straight out of camera” aka unedited) photos that I took with my dslr recently, and that I have just been able to access on my pc as of yesterday since my desktop’s SD card reader is broken, my external SD card reader went missing, so…I bought a new external one. This one is better, because it lights up when it’s plugged in and more importantly, it’s pink. I thought I’d share some photos with you all since that’s one of the things that I do from time to time on here (I really want to get into making instructive how-to blog posts with pictures again, but you know…depression):

when I repaired my chair 🙂

Does this count as a post? Hopefully yes.

xoxo
Z