Healing. A process where wounds, either physical or emotional, or even mental, are healed. Are taken care of. Soothed. Will I be able to do this? To be healed?
When someone tells me it will be OK, I wave my hand in a 'whatever' gesture. Dismissing them. I was let go from the CDOC, due to my mental health, which isn't very good. The dark thoughts I have, those images, desire to act them out, then to move on without remorse. These ... impulses ... have become rather strong. I would sit in the tower, alone, with no noise, or anything to occupy my mind, then I would hear them.
The voices. Giggling, and laughing at the bottom of the tower. I would go to the window to see if there was anyone there, but there wasn't. They would mumble, unintelligibly, most of the time. Then, when someone came into sight ... "Shoot him. Go on. Hes just a rapist...." ... "Kill him. He deserves it..." ... "Put the barrel in your mouth...you're alone...you know you want to...." ...
Are they spirits? I want to believe they are. That they are telling me that there are bad people needing to be dead. I hear them tell me to do things, only when its quiet. Only when my mind is unoccupied. I've heard them for a very long time. Always there. But only hear them clearly when its quiet around me. Its why I have music or something going on all of the time. If they are spirits, which is possible, then they aren't the nice ones, and have been around me for a long time.
Will they stop with this help I'm getting? Years of all sorts of abuse. Being molested repeatedly. Raped. Called all sorts of names. Neglected. A couple of decades of keeping all of that in. Have I found the place, the help, I've needed for so long? I really hope so.
When I got let go from CDOC, I was on the verge of defeat. I wanted my life to end. I was extremely close to doing it. To taking the massive amounts of pain killers, and mixing it with muscle relaxers, and then there's alcohol on top of the fridge. I just got the job, and then i was let go. I felt all was lost, and sometimes, I still do. More than half of the household income just disappeared. Despair, hurt, sadness, anger, hopelessness. It all set in all at once. I had the pills in my hand. I would have went to sleep, and hopefully not woken up. I doubt it would have worked, but still. Some days, still, I wish I had done so. I'm tired of being strong. Tired of being the one that holds everything together, and getting no appreciation. But if I'm not, then I'm not me. Maybe I should let Zeke take over for a bit...He can be strong. If not rather wise, and whatnot...
