My tears fill the salty sea
Do you swim and play in my sea of sorrow?
What about tomorrow?
Does my heart mean anything to you?
Or do you take pleasure from my pain?
Do you think that I am vain, for loving you?
My tears fill the salty sea
Do you swim and play in my sea of sorrow?
What about tomorrow?
Does my heart mean anything to you?
Or do you take pleasure from my pain?
Do you think that I am vain, for loving you?
The life I’ve had has been painful
Hard lessons I have learned
How to dodge a slap
How not to be burned
The world is a hard place
A school of knocks and tears
A place where you cannot rest your laurels
Because of all the fears
A place where life is challenged
Where love is mocked and caned
A place where compassion is weakness
And happiness is strained
I can’t tell you what I’ve seen and know
Because it’s hard to tell
For how can someone who lives in Heaven, understand someone from Hell?
Written 5:05pm 22nd February 2023
I am in a flux today.
I am experiencing deep depression and high motivation and there is no real in-between.
On one hand I feel extremely down and tearful and struggling to even think that I’d get to April and on the other I feel pumped to exercise and morph my body over a time into how I really want it to be.
I’ve been staring in a mirror for months trying to see myself through other people’s eyes and occasionally I see something, but then I move my head a certain way and the ugly comes back to haunt me.
So, exercise raises endorphin levels when you do it after a time, but it’s getting the will to get up and just move today that’s eating at me. Because I just want to hide under my fleece blanket and cry about things, cry deeply – I’m wearing hoodies a lot lately to hide the fact I’m crying so much to other members of the household.
They really haven’t noticed, perhaps my friend is right – I’d be a good actress? Who knows!
When I have got used to never dreaming because things never happen for me, someone comes along and tells me that life is soon to be great and it’s like another tease. More disappointment for the future and more broken dreams and an even more shattered heart – that’s the forecast for me I think.
I used to be a positive person, a Pollyanna and I used to tick people off with my ray of sunshine and words of encouragement – it’s like someone was bothered by it so much they’ve cursed me!
I’m told regularly, I will have great things because I have a great talent and this person and that person likes you – it’s all bullshit really, because I haven’t seen these people tell me things.
There are lots of talented people in the world who don’t have those great things – I’m not the only one and it’s not things that I want. It’s love.
A few rich men haven’t got that into their thick heads yet – they think they can seduce me with things, but they can’t.
Why are the simplest things in life so hard to obtain? A persons time, snuggles; words of love, support and encouragement, a good time and a laugh without judgement?
A tactile relationship that feels real and not based on lies and broken promises, a relationship where we encourage each other, instead of one of us being a sponge and draining the life out of the other in order to make the other one feel better?
I know I have had a life of abuse, but it sounds strange to roll this off the tongue, but I was always a happy kind of person, known for being bubbly and friendly and since I’ve moved here slowly and steadily I am being drained of life.
I remember before I moved here that I could never imagine the day I’d die, I was scared of death and wanted to be immortal – but now I crave death. It’s so contrast!
My willpower for survival is weakening.
Paul told me the other day that when a problem used to occur when I first moved in and I wasn’t moved by it and stayed relaxed and the same, that it bothered him, frustrated him even. Now, whenever there is a problem I am at the complete opposite end of the spectrum, where a problem can become a huge drama quite quickly and it’s a big contrast and he thought that I’d be more supportive and take it more seriously, but instead it’s made me fall apart.
I know why.
When I lived with my parents, emotions were not tolerated if it made a person loud or unmanageable and unproductive.
When I came here, it’s ok to be loud, shouting, ranting and raving at the slightest problem and to not let go.
I’m a huge empathic sponge, I soak up the energies of people around me and become like them – I’m a spiritual chameleon of sorts. This is why it’s essential I remove myself from this environment somehow, but it’s difficult when the energies around me are apathetic, depressed, defensive and aggressive.
On the rare occasion a visitor comes who is of lighter energy, it rubs off me quickly and I feel like the old me again – their energy can boost me for a couple of days in fact, but it never lasts.
I remember having such high energy when I first moved in that I drained Paul instead. Paul looked awful and exhausted all the time. Because I was always on my feet, being bubbly, finding joy in the smallest thing like a child in a candy store, no matter what happened in life – everything was like a novelty to me and it was.
Because I rarely got to choose anything and go out when I lived with my parents.
I had comments from Paul that I looked at the world in childlike wonder and innocence and that I was so excitable, he kept telling me to slow down, calm down, sit down, lie down, everything had to come down.
Till I emotionally fell down and can barely get up with the weight of it all.
Words can’t describe how I truly feel – all of this feels like intense whining of a bitter heart who hates the world for the joy it has because she hasn’t got it. Jealous slurs, that’s probably what you’re thinking about this post right now.
If you aren’t thinking that, then I apologise.
Art would show the world more of what I feel inside, but then again I can’t use my art table right now can I?
I really miss doing art.
I think the reason why I look younger than forty is because as tragic as it sounds I cry so much my tears sometimes dry on my face and make it feel taut after a while. Like now, my face feels tight because the tears have dried.
I try to keep my sense of humour and find something to laugh about, which is part of the manic depression I have. One minute extremely low and playing with sharp objects near my wrists and then the next moment cracking jokes about my darkness.
I might be depressed but with the tear treatment at least it keeps me young. It’s a little light, but still gloomy and incredibly pitiful.
But that’s where I am today.
No in between – motivated to exercise and cry my heart out at the same time whilst being at my most deeply creative.
Lack of sleep, slept four and a half hours again last night, my average for the past few weeks actually.
Motivated to exercise because I saw a glimmer of hope in the mirror the other day that I could look exactly like Diana Dors (Diana Mary Fluck) my main idol after all! Just dye the hair, tone up and lose around forty pound and yes, I can see its possible I could be like her…
Maybe someday I will get myself out of this dump and sell my work and get myself a red dress covered in rubies and diamonds and wear a pretty wine coloured faux fur shrug with a silk ribbon? Maybe someday I can walk in high heels without looking like a rookie tranny and actually be elegant and swan like?
Or maybe someday I will be found in a pile of my own poems covered in blood and white as snow, cold and still like ice and maybe my finders will publish my work for me and I will become posthumously famous?
Sods law that.
Thanks for reading…
Filed under Brain Drain
Though it’s grey and dark
My heart still beats
Slow with apathy
Slow with pain
I question will I love again?
Or is my heart still doomed?
I sit amongst the gloom
Soaked with tears
I’ve sat in this position for years
Wondering will my heart beat with the throes of spring
Or will it forever sting?
My tears have burned scars into my face
Will I ever be in a happy place?
Time will tell
Till then I am in a loveless Hell
My tears will oust the flames of Hell
For all those people who there dwell
I’m an anchoress for all you see
My tears will heal and set you free
My love burns fiercer than the fire
My love is pure and without desire
I will heal your aching hearts
The power of God is off the charts
For I know one thing is true
I know every one of you
And here my tears will wash away your pain
So that you are free again
And into heaven you will fly
This is why I pray and cry
I’m on the edge of the world
Wil I fall?
I am holding onto life
Like a fool
I should just let go and let fate know
I can’t take much more!
I am bored of monotony
Everyone has forgotten me
There is no leverage to keep me going
In this lake of tears I keep rowing
Like a seamstress I keep sewing, a new life for me
But then things happen like tragedy
Like a wheel turning around and it’s trapped me
Like a hamster in its wheel going around and around
Like a dog trapped in a cage within a pound
All these words are exhausting me
I should let go
What exactly is holding me to want to stay?
There is no play
I have totally and utterly lost my way
And dribbling words upon this page
Like some demented poetic sage
Writing this inside her cage
Locked inside dreams that won’t come true
Wondering what the blazes to do
Just let go or live some more
Maybe someone will knock on the door
And I will leave this solemn place
And maybe find again my pride and grace?
Until then I am hanging off this cliff, wondering…
Should I let go?
Filed under poetry
My life is like a butterfly
Everything I touch crashes burns and dies
When I try to make things better
Things only get wetter, soaked in the tears of the universe
It’s as though I am cursed
I don’t know why things are this way
I hope I will know some day
But now I am scared to reach out
For my touch feels like a clout
Yet it was meant to sooth
This is the truth
I didn’t mean to curse you with my presence
I guess it’s just my essence
Perhaps mother is right
I am a devil of the night
This has been bugging me for a while now. Around once every six to eight months something breaks down in this house – usually Henry’s laptop or power supply. Since Henry was seven years old it has happened regularly, he will be thirteen in May.
I learned the second time it happened that we should really be strict with how Henry uses his laptop; Paul still hasn’t learned this and is endeavouring yet again to try to afford buying a new power supply for Henry – just so the screaming fits about not having laptop access, stops!
The power supply breaks because Henry is a mindless twiddler, he twiddles on the sofa at the power supply cable mindlessly and ignores us when he is on it. I told Paul that Henry is on the laptop too much every day, so an hour to maybe an hour and a half should be his limits and the power supply should be plugged in when he isn’t using it!
However Paul lets Henry have the laptop every waking second the boy wants it! He is on his laptop more than I use mine! As soon as Henry wakes up in the morning around 7:15am he is on that laptop, spooning his cereal into his mouth whilst playing Roblox until it is required for him to get dressed by 8am to leave the house by 8:20am, often leaving the laptop on to die out whilst he is at school! To me this is and always has been unacceptable, to Paul it’s convenient.
As soon as he comes home from school at 3:25 he raids the kitchen cupboard for several snacks, plonks himself down in front of his laptop again and mindlessly eats until we say stop, or take the food away, usually with huge tantrums in tow! He will struggle to get off the thing to come and sit at the dining table for dinner and will rush his food to be back on it ASAP until bedtime!
The arguments I have had with both Paul and Henry over this and I have exhausted myself, because nobody cares what mama has to say – I’m a nobody here!
Whenever it is the weekend or Henry isn’t at school he is on the laptop from around 9am when he will usually wake up until his bedtime’s which school is usually around 11pm if there isn’t the next day. Again to me, this is highly unacceptable!
But for Paul, it’s convenient, because whilst he is on the laptop he is relatively quiet; whilst he is on the laptop he isn’t making messy robots and Lego designs or doing messy art! Whilst he is on the laptop he is out of the way!
I am always made to feel unreasonable by both Paul and Henry if I were to criticise this routine they have.
I am such an unfair parent who doesn’t want him to have any fun; I just want to take away his freedom and happiness, because I like hurting him apparently. Henry is allowed to say these things to me when Paul listens on, Paul says nothing other than tell me that he is alright, leave him alone, at least he isn’t getting in the way of the ironing or the cooking etc.
So every six to eight months, Henry gets a new laptop replacement from Paul and we get extra credit debt, because of Henry’s carelessness and Paul’s idea of an easy life!
Just before Christmas our oven broke down, Paul went into credit to get another one, it isn’t paid for yet – then the microwave broke down around ten to twelve days later, that hasn’t been replaced and then the washing machine around two week ago, that hasn’t been replaced yet either – but Henry’s power supply breaks down and Paul breaks into savings to get him a new one immediately – because that’s how much Paul values convenience.
You have no idea how hard it is to keep my mouth shut about all of this! Time and again it happens; time and again needful things are kicked under the carpet for that boys addiction to computer games!
What is worse is that recently Henry was weighed by the doctor and the doctor told us that Henry is becoming obese! I saw it, Paul didn’t!
For a year I have been trying to get that boy off his butt to do the exercises he used to love doing – he used to love running in the local field training for marathons and this year he couldn’t be bothered to do his usual annual charity run – which I was disappointed in and he gave up litter picking with the local environmentalists three months ago, purely because he wants more laptop time!
He is even starting to think about giving up his charity clubs that he goes to once every two weeks, because he loses a whole three hours a time away from his precious machine!
Young Carers will do him well in hard times, he needs their support – but still he is considering giving it up, not worth it you see… he hasn’t the time you see, the club interferes with his plans! Paul is OK with the boys obsession, I am livid by it!
I have always wanted an active, social family with strong family bonds – instead I get a bunch of bums who hate spending time with each other and often sit in separate rooms!
I am the only one who lifts a finger to actually tidy and clean anything in this house, but when I live with two people who addicted to their machines and don’t give a rats ass about how sick I am and what efforts I’ve put into the house – its hard to maintain. I spend three hours cleaning one room because it’s excessively messy and dirty, only for the mess to be back all of the next day without any sign I have actually vacuumed the place at all!
You can clearly see my areas in the house, I am very territorial, my areas are spotless and organised the rest of the house is disgusting and sort of represents a junk yard or pack rat house!
The back garden is definitely a junk yard, old washing machines dumped out there with a rotten old sofa and computer desk because we can’t afford to get a skip and the junk man rarely comes this way anymore!
I find the whole thing, the whole house and the attitude of the family very humiliating, I am ashamed of the lot of it and Paul knows, because I’ve broken down in tears during my worst days telling him what I need in order to feel sort of normal again. But he whines like a kid and chants “I know, I know” it’s not like talking to another adult at all and to be totally honest – I don’t think he really does know what I am on about!
The other day, when I had my bout of suicidal thoughts and dark poems, it was such a day! I told Paul again about how I can’t hack it anymore how I am trying and he snapped at me and said to me – “I do my fair share around the house, I do the cooking, the washing and the ironing” and I said that’s all you actually do though, that and cleaning the rabbit, you do nothing else, the house rots around you and you often forget to check on me or talk to me anymore! He snapped and swore, he rarely swears “he said fuck it, I won’t do the laundry then, I won’t do anything anymore – I’ve had enough”! So this is what happens when I ask for help – I get threats like this, that fewer things will get done.
I am afraid these days to ask anything extra of him anymore, because of these big outbursts!
I didn’t ask him to do anything other than to check on me from time to time, as he just doesn’t bother. Even when I go downstairs to sit there, he will actively ignore me whilst he plays solitaire or a Facebook game.
I was angry that day because I slept so long – I slept for thirteen hours solid, which is weird for me! I didn’t wake up until 3:55pm, which is disgusting – but he didn’t once come and check on me to see if I was OK – his excuse was, he was busy hand washing the laundry all day and couldn’t spare the two minutes to check on me as he passed my room on the way to the only toilet in the house that he uses an average of once an hour because he drinks copious amounts of tea all day!
When I used to be very badly sick and bedbound, I was often afraid I’d die in bed and he wouldn’t find out until dinner or bedtime, the only two times per day I can actually guarantee he’ll look for me!
I once rose a concern to Paul how if I ever became paralysed or had a stroke, I’d die of neglect – the horrible thing about it is, he sincerely agreed as he wasn’t sure he could care for me either!
This was a huge wakeup call and this is why whilst I sat in bed several months ago I tried looking for bedbound to fit exercises on YouTube to try and help myself out of it. But I had to do it in secret, because Paul doesn’t like knowing, I am doing anything out of the ordinary!
This is why my depression has been really bad since September.
I am well enough now to spend around an hour a day cleaning, sometimes more – but you see I can’t! Because either Paul gets in the way, or both Paul and Henry kind of leaves a trail of their mess behind me as I move to clean the next thing.
When Paul suddenly knows I am cleaning a lot, he will (I believe) deliberately stop buying cleaning products to slow me down, as all of a sudden, he can’t find them in store or he had an unexpected bill so the bleach has to wait a week!
Yes, this house can go a whole disgusting week without bleach!
Paul claims he was never like this before I moved in – when I moved in I came with so much extra stuff, so that is why he can’t clean. But you see it’s a lie, he was a pack rat before I moved in, I remember one of the first things I did when I moved in was to pull up all the carpets because of how thick the grime was in it that the whole carpet was hard like black gum and hundreds of silver fish crawled out as we pulled it up!
I wanted to go back to live with my mother so bad, but I grinned and bared it because I saw freedom and was intoxicated by it!
It took me nearly two years to get this house into a liveable state and remember I got pregnant within the first six weeks of living here, so it was no easy feat!
You have to also take into account, both gardens were severely overgrown and I levelled it all, by myself.
I was so proud by what I had accomplished and within six months of being ill – it’s like I never touched the place!
This is why I struggle to see the Brightside of anything these days, living in poverty with two pure bums.
I can’t really remember what true happiness feels like anymore, true relaxation or comfort, or even love… but then again, did I ever really know what love was? I kind of had it once… funnily enough with another Paul – not this one, there was another Paul once… but that one let me down.
I kind of new love once I guess!
No doubt I will get an earful if Paul reads this, that’s another thing – he is becoming very watchful of all my online activities lately, which is making me wonder if he is actually jealousy looking for anyone who might show an interest with me. It’s weird because there was a guy who liked me a few weeks back, but they reckoned someone warned him off.
Didn’t know who, they didn’t either.
Anyway, just a heads up and thanks for reading!
Filed under Home and Family
I have a remedy for this and a remedy for that
Which idea to pick of mine?
I have an idea for everything; my mind is like a shop of time
I will make it, I’m sure I will
For each idea I have, is a time I should kill
Every little thing that’s me, is all the ideas that you can see
How you will write them I do not know
For I do not follow the path you go
I have my own and a wonder it is
It’s a shame to steal another’s bliss
It’s a shame not to accept who you are
If you did you’ll go as far
As I have come with my ideas
And through the blood, sweat and the tears
Produce amazing things to see
In literature, that is made like me
Sorry for the rain yesterday
Did you learn?
Did you grow?
What do you know right now?
Did you sulk or did you sail?
Did you walk another trail?
I need to know, did you grow?
Or are you still so small?
Didn’t the rain catch you at all little seed?
Why do you bleed right now?
The rain should have washed those tears away by now!
I promised you a dream so sail…
Sail those salty waters to your destiny
Set yourself free
Ellen Grace Olinger
Passion for writing ignites my soul's momentum
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