It's 3am...While most minds are in a blissful state of slumber, mine is wide awake conjuring and pondering endless thoughts. Eyes are fixated on the dark popcorn ceiling above and ears are soaking in blue tunes as my autopilot mind becomes overwhelmed with the past, future and every cherry topped dream in between.
These thoughts range from warm and fuzzy to dark and slightly crippling. Sometimes I wish that my mind had an off switch so that I could power down at night. No such luck. So, wakie wakie! Grab yourself a coffee and a snack because it's 3am and I have so many thoughts to share with you.
Well hello there, gorgeous world, it has been some time since you and I have had an uncomfortably deep conversation. These days I have been spinning in an auspicious state of denial, visibly hiding from the demons and dark thoughts. If I may take a moment to confess, it is extremely exhausting trying to deny one’s brokenness. I don’t know why I would even feel the need to hide from the dark thoughts and demons that reside in the back allies of my mind. They are as much a part of me as I am them. To be honest, I ponder if I would be the same human(ish) if their existence was obliterated.
These black light words will eternally reside on my flesh, seeping down into the bottom left corner of my pulsating brain. iDerra is who I am, it’s who you young Frankensteins created. A human heart with a mechanical mind, wires and veins intertwining inside a titanium bone frame disguised with German/ Irish freckled flesh. I wasn’t always half robotics, once upon a time ago I resided in the mortal world. But, as the years aged my young innocence, societal attacks that I was unprepared for exploded. Two choices stood before my torched self, exhale one last carbon breath or deeply inhale a puff of chilled oxygen and stand up. The first option felt calming, yet an unknown source within forced the latter.
Thus, was created Derra 2.0, quite a long and mentally torturous journey was taken to get to that point, but I suppose it’s better than waving the white flag.
There are many aspects of life that I am unsure of, but there is one aspect that I am 100% solid on and that is Me. I am acutely aware of my inner workings, why I do things and why I say things. There is always a method to my madness. I was never and won’t ever be one of those humans who can say, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” Or “I had no idea I did that.” Because I do know. As useful as this characteristic may seem, trust me when I say that it isn’t exactly what it’s cracked up to be. I sometimes wish that I had a smidgen of ignorance, sometimes. My point with this fun little fact is that when I say that I am broken it rings true. This is not a word that I lightly throw about to gain pity, sympathy or the spot light. It is a mere fact. I am broken.
I am going to let you in on a little secret (are you listening?), we are all broken on varying levels, I just choose to not suffocate that part like most do. I did try to once, back when it was safe to be one’s self, but the outcome was silently suicidal. Hiding who I am to keep your comfort intact is a mission I can no longer carry out, for the end result will consist of my self-destruction. That’s okay though, we all need to party in the uncomfortable zone from time to time. Discomfort brings out the thoughts and issues we work like hell to ignore but need to feel. Stop ignoring them, open the door that leads to your dark place and face your demons (fears, doubts, insecurities, past monsters) one at a time. Discomfort causes a chain reaction of human growth personally and publicly.
So, here we are world, just you and I. How about we grab a latte, a chocolate croissant and talk about the thoughts from my broken brain.
P.S. Me being me, I usually attach a playlist containing the songs that temporarily calm the chaos of my cerebral storm, however the lyrical inspiration is too vast for this particular project. Therefore, I am sharing the top 5 artists/bands on my “Morphine” playlist…
Fall Out Boy
There you go, there’s your aspirin for those life migraines.
Headphones… coffee… face the world… bed... repeat.
As someone with anxiety, writing is my way of speaking. When my verbal skills fail, my pen excels. I have always had something to say to the world and to the humans residing in it, I just could never get my mind and mouth to be on the same level. So, I picked up a pen and haven't looked back. I have a message for you. A message for my family, my friends and to all the beating hearts. Dear You is a letter personally written, from me to you.