Survival Mode

Survival mode. I am more than a survivor, I am a thriver. I can be the confident me if I choose to be. I don’t want him under my skin and triggering me. I can be ok, it is possible, and I am going to choose to be ok, to be the best me I can be no matter who lives in my home.
There is a woman who feels like a girl living in fear and allowing others to have the power. I am not going to give him the power. He is an ass and he cannot hurt me now. I won’t be victim to him or anyone anymore. I am a poet, I am a fighter, I don’t give in, and I am walking forward one step at a time. I can be real, present and in control. I slept in my room last night and slept all night with no nightmares.
In group I feel safe to let myself go, and let out the fear and show the child frightened inside. But I don’t show that inner me outside of therapy.
I’ve always known my insides are fractured, not completely different people, but different me’s. I know which ones to pull to the front to get what I want. I use them to hide, masks that I wear, to be who anyone is expecting. In therapy I don’t have to wear a mask at all, but when I am home or in the outside world, I wear different ones and they work for me. I would like some day for the competent, confident me can be the one who takes over and skips out on having to use masks at all.
I use my poetry to let them out. There is safety in writing because the voice of the poem doesn’t have to be mine.


I do not remember writing or posting this blog. I am not a thriver. I am a survivor at best. I have to borrow energy from others to even be out of the house. I almost never go out alone and when I do, I get on the phone and try to find someone to chat with while i drive. Interesting indeed that this would show up like this now.