Heartsick

Fri, 01/08/2016 - 10:52 -- oake

Heart sick, a sticky nauseating feeling residing in your chest, cemented goo, the trigger of an urgent need for elimination. Alarming the body that something is amiss, frightening, albeit recognisable.

Like a fur ball lodged, blocking every breath, restricting the flow of blood to and from the heart, an imprisoning holding on to emotions, years of hurt, loss, grief, sadness, anger, layers upon layers. Likened to a blocked toilet that needs plunging, however not even such an intrusive implement could unclog such feelings. The awareness of an unnerving physical presence within the chest, familiarity befalls an inescapable outpour of sickness, not from the stomach but from the heart.

Emotions descending from deep within the body, residing in every cell, painful imprints, buried deep. Feelings erupt into insurmountable pain, anger, rage, a burning agonising anguish, anxiety, despair, overwhelming the psyche, provoking an inability to think, swamping the entire being. Then numbness, coping strategies surge into existence, alcohol, drugs, gas, smoking, diazepam. An inconsolable wave of desperation amalgamates into a frantic attempt to blunt out feelings, a longing for an unreserved numbness to mind and body. What other ways are there to deal with these debilitating feelings?

Heart sick like thick black tar concreted in your chest, restricting the natural flow of energy. Guarded from allowing love in or love out, feelings buried so deeply from the vulnerability of being hurt.

Panic manifests as the brain grapples with reasoning that there must be something physically wrong. Praying and pleading for a diagnosis would surely make sense of this suffering. An attempt to be sick parallel with a pining for life, stifling the body full of food, chocolate, bread, ironically stodgy, clogging up the body even more. Food becomes glutinous, heavy, congealed in the chest, unable to digest, stuck within the black tar. An insistent urge to be sick, fingers gouged down, a wanting to get this out. Sickness dispels a subsequent sigh of relief, a breath, momentarily, then a reoccurring demand to feed the body with something, yet simultaneously a rejection.

Heart sick the fundamental need for love, a yearning and aching for connection, to be cared for, to belong. The absence causes enormous pain and a rejection of closeness to others. A defence mechanism so profound, that the slightest hint of hurt triggers lock down. A process engrained for protection, the body’s unconscious and automatic learning.

Dissociation, impulsive behaviour, vacant glaring, a numbness consuming the body, shut down, incarceration, all doors shut, draw bridge up, the walls around strong, yet vulnerable to collapse. Plunging into darkness, loneliness, trapped, out of sight from anyone, suffocating, a readiness to die inside.

The mind obeying an inherent need to escape, unstoppable feelings, gushing tears, hopelessness submerges into a wandering into nowhere. A descent into oneself, terrifying thoughts, obliterates any chance of survival. . The inner child weakens hollering out for love, no care just a scorned inner loathing, hatred and confusion. Heart sick to revolt at yourself and internalise this disgust. An abused and abandoned body, a lost personality buried under layers and layers of hurt and rejection.

This poem is about: 
Me

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