Whispers {in} Between the Pendulum Swing{s}

I have struggled to love myself, for a long time. Now I dont mean love myself as in practicing self care, in today’s world I need to clarify the difference. I practice self care, I make time for myself and the things our culture tells me to enjoy. I realize there lies an emptyness within occupying my own space and the interactions with others. Whispers inbetween the pendulum refers to those moments of nuetrality within me as oppose to the events (pendulum swings) I chose to participate in.

Those moments of nuetrality, who I am when I am alone are filled with loud screaming whispers. Those whispers speak as soon as I am done existing among a society that tells me that i am practing self love if I do yoga, go to church, increase my social circle, attend counseling, earn a degree, reach a level of success, exercise and self affirm. Those whispers are the voices in my heart wishing I was indeed diagnosed with a mood disorder or personality disorder because there must be a reason I cant seem to love myself in spite of meeting society’s standard of sucess. The whispers between the pendulum have an all or nothing way of confirming I am a failure.

Like the medal pendulum my thoughts are heavy, a thread weighed down by the material it is controling. The whispers cry to be freed from newtons pedulum into my own healing hands. As I stand in the present between my failures and my dream I feel stuck by gravity, for the pendulum of my past is made of solid medal and the one of my future of frail crystal. My whispers are filled with anxiety, knowing that God has me in a future yet wondering why he’s let me suffer this long. Can I be angry at God? Am I allowed to have hate in my heart towards the people created in his image? Can I love myself and accept that some of my choices have been wrong? Can I love myself and accept that I have also done good yet need to grow? Can I love myself and hate my soul? hate my personality? hate my awkarwd? Can I love and hate myself?

Religion and Faith tell me the answer is No. So the whispers are angry. confused. desolated. compartamitlized. the whispers are my anxiety. Facts are I am angry. I am hurt. I am tired. Facts are this anger and hurt for me have been labeled as Post Tramatic Stress Disorder(PTSD) and depression. Facts are I labeled them with the blessing of my anxiety. My anxiety looks for answers within the structure of the pendulum. My anxiety tells me I am on a desk to be displayed yet my anxiety tells me I am not special.

My Anxiety pushes people away and sabotoges opportunities to feed my hurt and anger. My anxiety whispers loud enough to combine the hurt and anger into a strong HANGER that confuses purpose with ability and intent with discontent. My anxiety reminds me people arent trustworthy, its a master of cliff notes turned into whispers {in} between the pendulum swings.

Note: The end is unwritten. I stand below the base of the mountain of which through self love, self awareness, and self acceptance I will grow the confidence to build my community.

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Creative Visionary, writer, poet, advocate, provocative thinker, cycle breaker, trailblazer & lover.

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Amariah

Amariah

Creative Visionary, writer, poet, advocate, provocative thinker, cycle breaker, trailblazer & lover.

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