Something I know, with near-certainty, is that I will not look back on these days in retrospect and think to myself: “what the hell was I doing?!?’’ That moment will never come. I know exactly what I’m doing. The paradox with me is that for someone with great strengths regarding intellect, I’m all over the place. So, to rephrase; I am sane, but that ever-present sanity intertwines with specks of sheer madness. For someone as discerning as myself, somehow I struggle to make sense. What first comes across as alluring enigma with an air of mystery inevitably becomes the ultimate…

I think, in all considerable belief, both my parents as well as my upbringing are the root of my confusion; regarding boys, and men. ‘Boys’, being the ones I end up attracting a lot of the time; wounded men, battling their own inner confusion. Sometimes they have ‘mother issues’, or ‘daddy issues’. I consider myself to have both — being the child product, a five year old enduring the bitter fallout of a tumultuous marriage, to say the least. Being a ‘child of divorce’, I know what true loss, grief, and devastation feels like. And the shame, the shame of…

‘’I feel cut off completely. Snatched from the umbilical cord of faith. Nobody understands, and nobody is here to catch me if I fall. I am alone. Work doesn’t understand. Work WAS the one thing I was living for; it made me feel competent at something. But that’s not the case anymore. I fucked up on a closing once — the first one by myself — and now I have to ‘demonstrate’ that I can in fact close. And I won’t be rostered on until I can. I have been feeling absolutely low lately and I fucking hate it. Nobody…

I couldn’t count

How many times I say sorry

Day in and day out,

Never used to be this way

But time effects all

Natural processes of being,

You’ve had your share

Of a fucked up life

Nothing ventured -

Nothing gained,

But you’re lacking some

Sense of compassion;

I decide to will

empathic clarity,

Dreaming of you makes me miss

The train I’m gonna catch,

Im trying my hardest not to latch

on to the expectation

That you will ever react

In a smitten way,

No, not today

or ever in this place

You’ll never see through my face

I know I can live

Without it

I wont doubt my mind

Without it

But there’s something

So soothing about it

When you’re somewhere else;

When I’m with you

I’m high on my own sobriety

When you’re around

The words can come out clearly

And my life is tidy

When you’re away

I’d rather blow my thoughts

Out the window

And flavour the day

I know I am hopeless,

We all need an escape

But I don’t think you know

You aren’t so grey

My fantasies colour my days

And yet I sit and wait

For another lame phrase

That snuffs that special place

I hold from within

I constantly wonder

Will I ever win

My interrupted slumber

Will always give in unless

You surrender

To your little sin

I’ve wrote you down before, I should have learned by now

Cut you down to size but nonetheless

the enchantment lures me out

of the shell I reside in

The blue light in your eye

is so deceiving

because your disposition

plays on my mind

when you won’t stay the night

Ride the roller-coaster by my side

but not if you’re gonna bail.

I can escape the best way

when I glance in to you

because you’re nothing but

a daydream to me

You never get the itch

to show me something

truly unpredictable

No, because I will never


Just when you think you may have succeeded at something, life tends to kick you in the face. And although it hurts and confuses the hell out of you, you just have to learn to accept it.

I’m a soft determinist, so I believe everything happens for a reason; most things in life are pre-determined, but your MINDSET alters the paths you go down. Referencing the Law of Attraction, whatever energy you are putting out into the universe, is ultimately what you are going to end up attracting. Thus, subconsciously, we are the deciders of our own fate.

The past…

I have been out of hospital for nearly a month now. Things have been very up and down, and a lot has happened over the past few weeks.

Something affecting me has definitely been the vivid dreams brought on most likely by my increased dose of Sertraline. Every morning I had been stuck in dreams that represented frightening distorted versions of reality. Some were scary, some disturbing, some just plain strange. Sometimes I screamed or spoke in my sleep while experiencing these dreams, as they felt so incredibly real and uncanny. And I couldn’t escape, either. Any attempt to wake…

There isn’t much to do when in a psych ward. It is easy to feel lonely and bored, once the novelty of constantly reading, watching movies, writing, or talking to other patients wears off. It’s strange not doing work or Uni, and it felt completely foreign to me; to have others cook, clean, and do laundry for you.

Stuck in a mental inertia, I began to nap in the day. One day, I even fell asleep for a couple hours on some chairs in the common area of the ward, and missed lunch in the midst of my depressive stupor.

Before I conclude my trilogy of blogs on the theme of Existentialism, I feel it is first necessary to provide context, with an annotation of my false Aspergers diagnosis, as well as some information on Borderline Personality disorder – and a description on how I relate more-so with the latter.

The psychologists I saw while in hospital told me that I did not appear to have Aspergers (high functioning Autism spectrum disorder), and suggested that I may have been misdiagnosed, as the symptoms of childhood trauma are very similar to that of Aspergers.

When I first started therapy through CAMHS…

Cecilia Lazuli Phoenix

an array of broken up pieces to the tapestry of a memoir

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