Mi nombre es Nesha

So I'm told I need to probably continue to see a counselor and in order to continue to "feel better". Funny thing is that last time I went it went something like this. I go in and sit down with him and begin to talk and next thing you know we spent at least half the session with the counselor spilling his guts to me! At least he was slightly confused by it. It's happened since I was a kid though, people telling me their deepest darkest secrets, crying on my shoulder. It doesn't matter where we are they just can't help themselves. Drunks at parties cornering me to tell me about their marital woes, complete strangers on buses or in stores telling me far more than I need to hear, the teacher in the parent teacher conference. I wonder if there's a sign on my forehead that I can't see, but everyone else can. A part of me wanted to throw a tantrum & stomp my foot & yell "It's not fair, it's MY TURN! I'm paying you to listen to me & help me understand myself". Instead I tried to put my meagre newly learned counseling skills into practice & resigned myself to this taking longer than I'd hoped. Hey, he & I will both come out of this happier & healthier.I went home and told everyone it turned out beautifully and I felt good. Funny thing is after spilling his guts he told me I would feel much better if I started Wellbutrin.

Sometimes I regret my posts and leave them into draft mode so that I don't have to deal with it at the time or because I feel that someone may take it wrong, but I'm sick of presenting the everything ok mask & being the one everyone turns to for help & advice without them being aware that I too have my own major issues & some of them really are overdue for fixing. Part of my upbringing taught me to present the facade to the world "no problems here, just perfection". Meanwhile our family was sometimes imploding in the privacy of our home. I learned at a young age not to write anything about your personal thoughts & feelings & ACTIONS down as there was no such thing as privacy & they will be dragged out & ridiculed, so this is a bit of a who gives a damn anyway gesture on my part.

So here's a little glimpse of me.

Sad thoughts a filigree of shadows on my mind

Haunting lines, fine tracery never seeming to end

Will I ever find a different brush to help me paint another picture

Laughter in bright colours over pale mauve of tears

I let the sky into my heart, but there it changes form

Blue seas of melancholy swell

Grey waves swallow up my smiles

Let me find another palette and mix the colours of my life

Perhaps I'll find a brighter hue to start again

For I dream of radiant colours where the greenest grass grows

That's where we'll meet again soon

You'll gaze into my eyes and smile

...a perfect smile


  1. I feel you. I had to laugh at that last line about your councelor's suggestion. I have come to the conclusion that my Celexa train has gone off the track...

    There has got to be an answer/solution/SOMETHING to this state of being that so many of us are in. Maybe the first step is to take all the masks that we have and burn them bitches! So what is feelings get hurt. Maybe they are suppose to in order for YOU to be able to be ok.

    What do you think?

  2. It's ok to let things out, Nesha. Seriously. I will not offer to trade stories, because quite frankly, you don't need to hear it. I'm here to listen if you want. Want my number? :)

    "There's a skeleton in every man's house..." You know? We are all united in that. I was brought up the same as you----hide it. All of it. But sooner or later, you get tired of hiding what defines your past. And it's when you finally define your past, that you start building your future and living in the moment.

    (My two cents? Pills don't fix your soul and your emotion. They only mask what's hurting you at the time. Time, reflection, love----that's what will cure what's ailing you. Totally your call and I support you either way, but counselors and shrinks are far too quick to write out a prescription sometimes.)