(no subject)

[sorcyress]

I have three months and fifteen days to figure out what I am going to say to S.J. Tucker, to thank her for her song "Go Away, Godboy" which is a song that can ground me out of a panic attack and bring me back to normal, and a song that so desires to be played on eleven that I will break out the headphones and hearing damage, because my computer's speakers do not get loud enough and I need to drown myself in music and this is the only choice.

I can have all the time in the world, and I will never be able to figure out what I am going to say to Vienna Teng, to thank her for "Whatever You Want", which is a song that can pull me out of a panic attack because for all it seems to be about weakness and subservience and fear, it really is a song about saying Fuck That Shit because you are so very much stronger than that, and damaged does not mean broken and they can try and keep you down, but you're through with that shit and just don't want to hide anymore.

I have not ever before prayed with music, hands clasped, eyes shut, head turned up to the heavens where all the goddesses and gods, mine own and others, rest and watch and give us what we need to help ourselves get out of the holes we dig. There is incredible power in music, this I knew already, but never before have I harnessed it for such a cause as protection, and strength, and providing a shield against the insecurities I knew were wrong, but turned on me with tainted lips and words and things that are not meant to be used against me, no, not even by them. And then they were gone.

I am the last one you'd ever suspect of setting the fires.

And yes, Sor. That was unbelievably scary, all the more so because what you say to yourself is true. But you will notice that you sit here, still alive, and in one piece. There may be words scrawled down your arm, harsh and dark and painful, but there is a word scrawled across all the others, covering them from first view, and that last word is strength, and yes. You survived, because you are strong, and because you survive, and that is what you do.

Another day I'll cry again, and another I'll once more panic --crying that won't stop or be blocked or solved by Gabe or Alis, or give me any ability to get someone who will help, and if it seems they're to stumble on me accidentally, crying that will cease and leave me breathing normal, begging the surrounding world to leave me be without knowing that this happens. And when that happens, and I play pretend and I sob and my whole body shakes with fear and doubt and insecurity and self-loathing, well, I will know that I survived this before, and will survive it again. Scars may last forever, but with time they fade, and become merely stories.

I don't particularly care to leave comments turned on, but I truly do dislike turning them off. I never wish sympathy for fear, because it does not help, and while the lie is appreciated, it will not be better tomorrow. It will just be different. So choose words wisely, and know that silence can be appreciated just as strongly as *hugs*.

~Lady Sorcyress, de MOOP!

Comments

[kdsorceress.livejournal.com]

Eh. I'll live with the hugs, babe. *smiles*

~Sor