Writing Prompt – Identifying Feelings as Objects

Write down a list of emotions that resonate with you, or choose from the list below:

Joy
Guilt
Loneliness
Fear
Hope
Curiosity
Empathy
Sympathy
Curiosity
Lust
Love
Sadness
Anxiety
Excitement

Now, pick as many as you wish and identify the emotions as color, weather, landscape, music, and object. If you need help getting started, you can begin with “If this emotion was a ___, it would be _____” Take it wherever it wants you to go.

Here’s my response to this writing prompt.

Dull smoky grey, raw clouds heavy with tears plodding heavily across the sky, an eternal flat desert of nothingness, the blues turning without end on an ancient Victrola, an unwashed, unshod, hungry child with no mother in sight.
This is sadness.

Come-Fuck-Me-Pump red, rolling thunder that ends with the earth moving, Softly undulating hills covered with moist moss and heady flowers, smoky jazz in a candle-lit room, chocolate melting down a warm, hard belly.
This is lust.

Cobalt blue, cloud-to-ground lightening charging the air with energy, a thin dirt road cut into the side of a steep, tall mountain, the mosh pit at a Dead Kennedys gig, the particle accelerating atomic generator in Switzerland.
This is excitement.

Blood red, an earth-cracking tornado, a cave of razor-sharp stalagmites, the cacophony of an orchestra pit warming up their instruments, a plane falling from the sky.
This is anxiety.

Fae – The Beginning of the End

My outpatient psych program has set my graduation date for August sixth.  Although I was terrified at the prospect several weeks ago when my health insurance began threatening to end payment, I am starting to feel as though I’m going to be ready to leave the program, which is probably exactly where I should be right before graduation.

The end of last week was the end of the health insurance, and GenPsych has been nice enough to extend a few weeks for me without charge, as they feel I’m not ready to go yet. My extended in-law side of the family is in Lake George this coming week, and I’m being allowed to go mid-week to the end of the trip, which is wonderful, because they could have refused me permission to go. My argument was that I would be able to utilize the tools I have to make it through the week, and also that having my family away on vacation and not being able to spend any of it would be counter-productive to my progress. They agreed, and I’m taking a train up and meeting them. Half the week sounds like just about the right amount of time to me – I’ll get to spend time with my family, but won’t be overwhelmed. I can also take time for myself without feeling guilty or judged, as everyone knows where I’ve been this summer and what I’m going through. I’ll come back and attend classes for two weeks before graduating.

The anxiety and depression are still present, but don’t feel as though they are the major factor in my life. The doctors say that I’ve been dealing with this all of my life, and even though getting clean and sober in 1989 has helped, and the cognitive therapy I’ve done by myself all these years also helped, I need to expect to live with a degree of this for the rest of my life. As long as I can use the tools I’ve been given to combat the majority of it, I think I can do it…especially with realistic expectations.

This week will be a good test for me, and I’m looking forward to the psychological challenge as well as the beauty of Lake George, and trying to be present in the moment and enjoy myself up there for once. I am hopeful that I’ll get the most of the trip this year.

Fae – Anxiety or Excitement?

How could I tell? They feel almost exactly the same to me. Heart pounding, hands shaking…a distinctly uncomfortable feeling.

Matt has asked me to meet him in the city. I’ve developed a rather intense case of agoraphobia. He’s planned something fun, a surprise for us for this evening. I haven’t been thinking a lot about this impending date, which I knew was on the calendar, because I didn’t want to find a reason not to come, and I was afraid I would allow  my anxieties to wiggle me out of it.

I know for a fact that on our way home this evening we will be laughing about the wonderful time we had.  I want to have fun,  romantic times with my husband. It is just that time leading up to it is torturous for me. 

Is it the fear of the unknown? Lack of control?  I don’t mind being surprised, and as a matter of fact it is difficult to pull the wool over my eyes  – and I have no I’m here where we are going this evening. as a matter of fact, now that I am on the train on my way I do think I feel excitement instead of anxiety.  but I’ll be damned if I could tell the difference until now.

I’m glad I was writing as this experience was unfolding, I will think of it as a cognitive behavioral experiment in self-awareness and certainly a positive tool for my toolbox …if I can get my ass past the anxiety blocking the door,  the possibility of fun and excitement awaits.

****

I got in and took the taxi to a predetermined location. Matt when standing underneath the awning for The Colbert Report….He had scored tickets to be in the studio audience!  We met up with some good friends, and got some street meat afterwards.  We had such a good time,  and laughed until our  cheeks hurt.  It wasn’t until we realized that we’d missed the next train and wouldn’t be home until well after midnight that the anxiety sank back in – our son is alone at home and not fond of the dark. He certainly won’t sleep until we get there. Damn, and we were having such a good time…

Writing Prompt – Downfall of Love

Having all I ever wanted
Frustrates me endlessly
The love of a lifetime
That I cannot feel or experience.

I am watching my life
From above my body
Passing me by
Like a Mardi Gras parade I can’t join.

A happily codependent marriage
With a prince that won’t leave me
Two bright, loving children
Being raised by an ever-present ghost.

The spectres of my history
Have stripped my soul of emotion
My desperation to live my life
Eludes my most earnest efforts.

I can’t let go the hope
That I will be a part of my own family
But I fear I’m missing it all
Is it too late to save the past?

Writing Prompt – The Fickle Finger of Fate

I’ve been trying very hard to make positive choices, and not to drop to the lowest common denominator, which is my modus operandi. So I picked a writing prompt, and off I went. It felt a bit corny, but I decided to see where it would go. Somewhere unexpected, as it turned out…


The fickle finger of Fate
Turns my cheek
With scraggly nail to face her
“I’ve had no time to file them,”
She says with a wry smile.

She ponders my circumstance
Considering her prerogatives
Opining her every assessment
Weighing all, leaving nothing of my inevitability
To chance

Her ancient beady eyes
Hold the secrets of the ages themselves
She leans her withered face toward me
To murmer history in my ear
Chastising and complementing with each stale breath.

“You see,” she whispers chidingly,
“Your perception of control is really
An open question I have put to you myself.
Your destiny is manifest only according
To the parameters I have laid before you.”

I ponder her circumstance
Considering my prerogatives
Opining my every assessment
Weighing all, leaving nothing of my inevitability
to chance.

“Perhaps,” I respond cooly, scanning the crone’s features
For any thread of humanity. “But if that is true, for every choice I have made, you have had to lay down two anew. I have chosen well, and so would have forced your hand to reward me as I have rewarded myself.

“I push the boundaries, I decide my outcome. Your control is an illusion, your very existence is dependant upon belief in your power. Your presence is strong for those who worship your ideals, but for me you are but a wisp of the past.”

And with that, she was gone, and my choices were finally my own.