Welcome Home Neglectorinos!

Through my writing I plan to explore the relationship I have with myself

It’s fucked up and broken.

But then so am I.



Today I am absent.  Avoiding.  I feel myself sitting back, behind my eyes, looking out.  Not feeling, not thinking.  Just nothing.

If you could see me, you would not.  I am blank, inside and out.  I am washed away, like a stain on the sand.  Like a splash of blood.

When I am nothing, then there is nothing and I can be ok.  I can pretend that the world and its hurt (my hurt) does not exist.

It cannot impact me.

And I’ll be fine.

In the night. In the dark.

Some wounds go deep.  They burrow down and take root in the mud and mire of life’s little pains.

They are wounds that we glimpse out of the corner of our eye, like a ghost or a shadow.

They are the thing we pretend is not there.

They are the wounds that twist fear in our stomachs, way down in the dark of our being.

Just a flash.

Ooops, there’s a thing I should be looking at, working on.

Abandonment. Resentment. Neglect.  Abuse.

These things scar us, and direct us.  They take us on a journey whether we look at them or not.

They are in us.  They are us.


Who do you love?

How do you learn to be in the world, after abuse?
How do you trust that the next time won’t be the same?  Or shades of the same?

How do you go on to invest time in another person when your own instincts have been trampled and tricked?

How do you even know what’s enough and when’s enough anymore?

What’s over reacting?  And what is sitting by, your heart screaming, while someone new pushes your buttons and triggers your fears?


How do you ever tell the difference anymore?  How do you trust anyone ever again?

How do you trust yourself?


Take a long line

Sometimes I fall into the trap of not knowing my own mind, after all this time.

I’ve found myself so intertwined and enmeshed in the personalities of others that I think I like what they like.  Their friends should be my friends.  Their interests should be mine.
And yet I find myself increasingly unsettled.  If these people are my friends, why are they not acting like it?  Because they don’t know?  They don’t know we should be friends?
Why did I convince myself for years that I liked cheesecake?  Because someone I admired and wanted to be close to liked cheesecake.  Why do I insist on creating worlds that aren’t real?  Why must I contrive circumstances that are false and then find myself disappointed when the facade falls away?

Why am I projecting my desires onto people who are only people?  Why do I continue on the rollercoaster of expectation, disappointment and acceptance?  Like a ride at the fair in a nightmare.  I don’t want to get on.  I have no choice.

How strange this thing is that I have done.


All is not lost

You have to do things differently, try a different thing, if you want things to change.

When you would normally panic, stay calm.  When you would normally crumble, stay firm.

When you feel like running, stand your ground.  When you’re sure you’re drowning, swim.

Easy enough to say.  The mind is a stubborn creature.  It’s hard to change.  And when confronted will always do what it knows best.  It will always return to type.

But what if the brain’s not really in charge.  What if the heart decides?

I am strong.  I am smart.  I can cope with what’s coming.

It won’t always be perfect.  It probably never will be.

But I’m climbing towards the light, stronger, clearer.

And the light is beautiful.  And it’s waiting for me, to be me.


Deep water

The dark waters are pulling me down again.

They pull me down to awareness, they pull me deeper into myself.

And I know I shouldn’t panic.  I know I should have faith.

I’ve been strong, I will continue to be strong.

But fear is ingrained.  It is learnt and it is taught.

And unlearning is hard.

Fear is the place I go to when challenges arise.

It is the never ending thing I keep returning too.

It is punishment when the punisher has left the building and moved away.


Surrender, because what we resist, persists.

And I don’t want to be in the dark anymore.  Not forever.


Your poison

Children who know about going without are very quick learners indeed.

They understand contempt and resentment.  They understand it when they see it, when they hear it.

They understand the bitterness.  It washes off others in waves.

Like poison.

And for a child who has learnt to go without, the poison is the reason they stop asking.

The poison means, you’re not worthy, an inconvenience.

The poison means GO AWAY.
“Why can’t you just vanish?  Are you still here?”  “What are you looking at?”

Drink the poison.  That’s what they want.  To keep you quiet.  So they don’t feel bad.