Pandora’s Box

I stare down at you laying in my arms, my mind wonders off and lands in fantasy land. Your hand traces the outlines of all my curves, your lips wrap around my mouth, the taste so salty. You whisper things to me that makes my body tremble. You tell me a story, the one told hundreds of times before.

Yet you take me for a fool, you feed into my desires, playing on thoughts of forever. Do you touch yourself thinking of all the things you beg me to do that no one else can? Do you sit in your corner reminiscing all the paths we’ve been down, down, down? Hashing out what you can say to make me stay just one more time.

But, Oh baby I see through your lies, your lies, all the times you tripped me up, how stupid was I? You cover your eyes when I want to open mine. Yes it’s been lonesome baby, oh baby– but I see your lies, your lies.

Walking down the street, the light flickering off the poles so high up, a smoke screen. Like a Hollywood scene, my smile that kind of bright, and wearing my neon green fish net stockings with my high heels. I see you over there, I look away you stranger I see. You grab my hand pulling me back in with your kiss wrapping me in your reality once again. Why can’t you just stay away, my pandoras box, just stay away.

Yet you take me for a fool, you feed into my desires, playing on thoughts of forever. Do you touch yourself thinking of all the things you beg me to do that no one else can? Do you sit in your corner reminiscing all the paths we’ve been down, down, down? Hashing out what you can say to make me stay just one more time.

But, Oh baby I see through your lies, your lies, all the times you tripped me up, how stupid was I? You cover your eyes when I want to open mine. Yes it’s been lonesome baby, oh baby– but I see your lies, your lies.

Tasha Geller-Hollingshead

© Tasha Geller-Hollingshead, http://www.billiejean.live, http://www.billiejeandotlive.wordpress.com, September 11th, 2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Tasha Geller-Hollingshead and http://www.billiejean.live, http://www.billiejeandotlive.wordpress.com  with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 

Advertisements

Secret Prayer

I am laying here tonight, my body drenched in fear. I push my judging thoughts aside, my eyes fill with tears.

For tomorrow, I pay a visit, to my brothers grave. Why did God take his life, how come he couldn’t stay?

I hear my cursing words come out, I feel my anger rise. I do not understand why people drink and drive.

I am going the cemetery where part of his ashes lay. I am going there to tell him Karen had his boy today.

As I tell him these things, I will break down into tears. I will say the things I should have said while he was here.

I will tell him that I love him, and thank him for loving me. I will tell him in my heart is where he’ll always be.

Then I will say God, please help me to love and forgive that man who killed my brother the night he should have lived.

And please put a burden on his heart, to never again drink and drive. To make him think of all of us, that didn’t get to say good-bye.

And help him be a stronger man, get his life right. Help him understand that your most precious gift is life.

And just before I fell asleep, I heard someone say, no need to worry, I am always with you. It will be ok.

When I awoke the next morning, I awoke with a smile. Thinking things over, was worth my worth while.

That hatred I had in my heart, no longer lingered there, I take it as if the lord had answered my secret prayer.

© Tasha Geller-Hollingshead, http://www.billiejean.livehttp://www.billiejeandotlive.wordpress.com, July 9th, 2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Tasha Geller-Hollingshead and http://www.billiejean.livehttp://www.billiejeandotlive.wordpress.com  with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

The worse is yet to come 3/20/2017

I thought I would sit down at my desk and type out a little tonight. It’s been awhile, I apologize to my followers for not keeping up with my writing. I know it’s something I am suppose to do when I have a blog going and many people that depend on my writings to make them feel more alive. But, when you don’t feel alive yourself, how are you suppose to help others. I have been a little lost and stumped I guess I should say. My life has been so up and down since last October to be honest. As you all know I am bipolar and my meds got all messed up and then they changed, then they didn’t work and now I am unmedicated for today, one day only. It’s still hell, you have no idea unless you’ve been where I am. I had to taper down on the last medicine I was on that had only worked for two weeks. So, I start back on lithium tomorrow morning and I really hope it works out for me this time, without my body developing the hard core side effects.  With a lower dosage, maybe I can have somewhat of a decent life. At this point I will take anything I can get. At what cost, I won’t know until I’ve tried. I’ve been scratching my head and clawing my way out of this deep dark hole since the end of last year that my nails are down to the quick. I don’t look pretty or feel pretty when I am depressed, manic, or out of my mind. My hair was falling out for a while, my eyes had dark circles under them, and I gained about 20 pounds already this year with the medicines changing so much. Feeling high and feeling low does not have its perks. There is no pretty when it comes to not wanting to wake up in the morning. There are so many wounds left open, the scars can’t heal when they won’t close. I have pushed so many people away, and for good reasons, but to do it when your emotions are at an all high. Well, it doesn’t make for a good time let’s just say that. I feel a thunderstorm coming on in my life, even though I’ve weathered this horrible storm already for so many months. It feels as if the worst hasn’t come yet still. I’m still breathing, I am surviving yes, but it’s not good enough for me. I don’t want to just make it day to day. I want to live and be happy. I want to jump for joy once in a while. I want to wake up with a smile on my face. I don’t want to sit in my chair with pity in my mind and self loathing, not wanting to move forward or even get out of bed. I’m still breathing… right?  I have a family that loves me, I have a great job, I have friends that are supportive, and I have many people in the medical field rooting for me to get better. But, way in the back of my mind I am hopeless. I am sad, mad, tired, worthless, useless, and haven’t been attentive to my responsibilities. Big and small. Short and tall. Far and wide. Everything seems so big yet so far away. I feel like I am falling into the ocean and letting the waves just take me out to sea, watching everyone and everything I love disappear. The worse part is I am totally ok with that in this state. Yet, I get irritable and snap at everyone. I don’t want to be around people in these moments and when they get trapped in my stare they get the blunt worse of it. It’s gotta be complicated for those that are close to me, up front with these raw emotions flying around all over the place and out of place for most have never seen this side of me. They see the happy Tasha, the one that’s the life of the party. Some deserve it, most don’t. I have however learned to establish emotion boundaries, but that’s the only good thing I have accomplished in over 5 months. That literally sucks the life out of me just writing that. I am so disappointed in myself and some of my actions. I didn’t intend on hurting anyone but some people have just gotten caught up in the cross fires. It’s all my fault to blame, I guess. But, this rollercoaster ride definitely isn’t for everyone and not everyone can handle a broken person such as I or have the desire to, to be honest. But as broken as I may be, I know the beautiful inside of me is dying to come out and play. I am ready to make a break. I am ready to run down the road with the sunshine in my eyes, the glare staring back at me in the face, and the warmth sweating down my back.  I used to be so happy, I used to be wonderful. I used to be a lot of things and had so much to look forward to. I still do have a lot to look forward to. It’s the only thing that has kept me going. Watching my two boys grow up and see them graduate high school and college, get married, and have their own kids. For I have been given a second chance at life. Well, actually make that a third chance. I know I should have so much to be grateful for. But, why can’t I feel this way. Why is everything so dark and gloomy for me, and what will come of this storm I feel coming. I know it’s going to be bad, I just feel it in my bones. You all have those feelings deep down inside and you know that you are journeying to a predestined atmosphere,  unknown to oneself. What is it, what will happen? Why can’t I ever catch a break? Will there ever be that time in my life where I am happy for more than 6 months without something bad happening to me?

I am still sitting here at this shaken down, beaten desk of mine, wobbling my head back and forth listening to Lorde. Somehow she brings me solitude in these horrid times. I feel the chill rise up my arms and down my shoulders then down my back and legs. The trembling never stops. The shaking never lets up. Yes, it’s fear you are reading that is blasting me out on this blog of mine. The sky is darkening here in my neck of the woods and the time for me to close my night is approaching. I do not want to fall asleep and have the dream catcher catch me again. He never stops chasing me, he keeps me up all hours of the night and it’s scary. I dread the time to come where I have to lay my head down on my soft puffy pillows and curl up into a ball under my comforter next to this mate of mine that had no idea what she was getting herself into when she married me. So dedicated she is though. I don’t want to fall asleep because I fear the worst, that another day passed where I accomplished nothing. Knowing deep down, I may only ever be just an emotional wreck. I don’t expect anyone to understand this, but I know some of you will because you have been there before or maybe you are going through it just the same. Will it ever end? How am I going to get through this week? Prayer isn’t helping, nor is meditating. Group therapy has it’s perks but in there, there is no rest for the broken individuals and I feel everything they are feeling and taking it upon myself and some days I come out the other end worse than when I went in. Not anyones fault, I bring it on myself, but I am left here stuck wondering what will ever work for me? Individual therapy has come to an end for me at the moment, the trust was broken and I was left out in the woods alone and scared and no one to catch me falling when I was at my worse, by the only person who could ever pull me out and make me see clearly. That person is gone and there is this hole in my heart that is stretching more with each day, each week. I just want to heal. I want to get out of this slump. I want happiness, I want peace. I just don’t see the possibilities, there is no light at the end of this tunnel today. What will tomorrow bring?

Tasha Geller- Hollingshead

© Tasha Geller-Hollingshead, http://www.billiejean.livehttp://www.billiejeandotlive.wordpress.com, March 20, 2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Tasha Geller-Hollingshead and http://www.billiejean.livehttp://www.billiejeandotlive.wordpress.com  with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 

Why so lost little girl?

Why so lost little girl?
You have your head held high.
You mask a perfect life.
You portray the Robertson’s.
Why so lost little girl?
Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?
Isn’t this what you’re suppose to be doing?
Why so lost little girl?
You know your broken wing is healed?
Do you see now you can soar higher than most?
Do you understand your capabilities?
Why, you do realize you paint the colors of the wind like a rainbow melt!
Why so lost little girl?
Why so lost?
Tasha Geller-Hollingshead © copyright 2017
© Tasha Geller-Hollingshead, http://www.billiejean.livehttp://www.billiejeandotlive.wordpress.com, 2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Tasha Geller-Hollingshead and http://www.billiejean.livehttp://www.billiejeandotlive.wordpress.com  with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Sleep walker

Sleep walker, why do you sneak at night,

in the most peaceful hours?

Night walker I feel you drag your

feet across the floor slowly.

 

Your blindness of my love for you is killing me,

breaking me apart quickly.

 

City drifter so many choices you have

who is your first, second, and third?

Cold catcher keep your twisted

tongue out of my reach.

 

Chorus;

You sing your lullaby to me,

you wrap your silk arms around my body

and cradle my hopes and insecurities into happiness,

followed with a ray of forgiveness.

 

High ropes seeker keep stretching on

towards eternity, until you reach me,

Mind space eraser, my thoughts can

only travel to your sweet face.

 

It’s like a cat scratch fever on an

evolving door, keep walking.

 

Chorus;

You sing your lullaby to me,

you wrap your silk arms around my body

and cradle my hopes and insecurities into happiness, 

followed with a ray of forgiveness.

 

 

When I finally get you in my sight my lungs collapse.

When I touch your skin on mine, my fears surpass.

For all the fights, boundaries, tears and long nights,

cease to exist for this simple moment of serenity.

 

Chorus;

You sing your lullaby to me,

you wrap your silk arms around my body

and cradle my hopes and insecurities into happiness, 

followed with a ray of forgiveness.

 

 

Sleep walker, why do you sneak at night,

in the most peaceful hours?

Tasha Geller-Hollingshead © copyright 2017

 

© Tasha Geller-Hollingshead, http://www.billiejean.livehttp://www.billiejeandotlive.wordpress.com, 2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Tasha Geller-Hollingshead and http://www.billiejean.livehttp://www.billiejeandotlive.wordpress.com  with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 

 

The Therapist

Staring across the room and looking out of the window, I see a man run across the road. He was wearing a black hat that caught my attention. If I look in the right angle I can see as he zips up his black matching coat and run in the black squared shoes he is wearing. The weather, so cold today, and it’s so high up, this building. The sky is sitting even levelled with me today as I embark on another journey with “the therapist”. I wonder if God has a hand in the vision I see in front of me today. Leaping out to grab me and change the proper expression on my face, I am guided to another room. Sometimes I can hear that girl, I can hear her crying in the back ground, around the corner, or is it through the thin four white walls and a not so cushiony carpet that surrounds us again. Less than classy artwork on the walls if I may say so myself, we all are trapped and locked in here. Where is the key? You may ask, why I chose to talk about him today? Out of all the days that come and go in our lives, I choose this particular moment to talk about what most would assume is a less than relevant person in my life right now. Leaving them only to end up being wrong.

Starting with his pointy nose, squinty eyes, and the way he crosses his legs, I would have to say he is the most important person to me that I have to hold dear to my heart. At least, until it’s time for me to give it away to those that are around me 24/7. For now though, my heart is broken and shattered into a tiny little pieces. If I were to sit and try to count all of them, it would be in the millions and the days would drag on while tears fall down my face endlessly. For I am a broken person. I wish I could say that all of my childhood days were happy and I had a happy life. I have never really had a happy life, now that I think back. All of my decisions, those in care of me and their decisions that caused me trauma and pain. The paths I have gone down, had led no where but to sadness. I have many sides to me, some depressing, some mysterious, some happy. I have so much to learn, but will I even give him a chance to help me? What is this thing people call happiness? Is that term really subjective?

(giggle) When you’re talking he will say ok, ok, ok, rather quickly after I speak to cut me off momentarily when I get carried away. He will wait for me to say something rather than asking a question to probe further he will then just say ok. Then a different question, then ok. Then another question, then ok again. Well- followed with a sigh, is the code word and look though, if you pay closely attention you will see and hear it throughout the session. Like a clock that never fails to tick and tock. It is when I know it’s no longer a valid conversation to have, it ends. I know that if I wanted to I could talk about things that could help me, I could get the help I need with him. I am stubborn as a bull my grandmother used to say to me. I see where she was coming from now, even though her opinions could be bought for a dollar a minute, and came true, still, I should have listened to her more. I wish she was here to hear all my complaints and tell me to be grateful for even being alive.

Throughout this long ticking time in session, I reach over to grab his hand, jolting him and startling him. I tell him my deepest dark secrets one at a time. He grins from ear to ear and eerily enough I liked that look. I liked the thrill and excitement that came over his entire face. For I wonder what all goes on inside HIS mind, this trained, well-educated therapist. The one who sits with his chin in his hand and two fingers that point toward his jet black hair. That means the gears are turning, he is thinking very deeply. Years of experience talking to people over and over about the same stuff, I realize why not go ahead and just get it out, something different this time? Why hide who I am anymore, this other side of me? Something that he can actually help me with and I’m not ashamed or embarrassed to know that I have a side that does actually exist in others. The mere fact that I could raise his body out of his chair and cause him to walk around the room tirelessly, showed me that he’s thinking about it. Finally, why did I feel so used, in the end? Was it worth it, opening up this time? Do I still have to question myself and my thoughts on a daily basis? You betcha, but that therapist, that one time. That one day. He understood me and I understood him if only for that ONE minute.

Always, The patient

Tasha Geller-Hollingshead © copyright 2016