I’m done living in my amygdala
Because second rate living isn’t fitting this sky.
Reptilian impulses implying death with every turn
Fight or flight lifestyle left me exhausted but still
These thoughts are crusading and shaping my mood
Indicating that my body was no match for my mind
Black and white thinking
Got me believing
It’s either one or the other
Gotta revamp my psyche
Play it in a new key
Remind myself that thoughts
Can just hang out
But I can act out.
It’s all a mind game
One I’ve been playing since I was a little kid
Neurons wired to create
a path of least resistance based on preconceived notions
formulated by a baby brain that knew nothing about intersectional feminism with an anti-capitalist anti-racist anti-establishment edge, knew nothing about putting skin in the game with our brothers and sisters of the world.
No, this wiring in my brain predates my passions. But it still defines my pain.
It stands alone as a strange little remnant of my history, and, possibly my future
If I can’t concoct new potions with my mind
Strategic goal in mind.
So you see,
I’ve had OCD
since I was eleven
And I really am a hellion.
But those certain things
That get under my skin
And send me running
Send my quitting my jobs
Calling my mother
Send me denying food and drink
And sometimes a place to sleep
These fears send me under, and under, and under
Until one day I won’t be able to come out.
I’ll have dug too deep, I fear.
Panting, sweating, crying and dying.
Thank goodness I changed course, I’m not lying.
But those little monsters who I’ve let grow bigger
They own me now
Got to respect the devil if you want to play.
Hello OCD, here I am facing you
Do you see me?
You’ve done it again honey, hurray.
You’ve consumed my thoughts, I think only of you.
Like an abusive spouse I hate you but I can’t
Let go of your hand.
You’re guiding me. You’re telling me you’re helping me.
My every movement throughout the day is not done without
Checking in with you.
I grow to depend on you more and more.
Do you know what power you hold?
Are you a part of me, or am I a part of you?
Trust that I’m trying
To forget you.
My therapist told me I think too much
Oh, you mean like meditating five minutes before bed? I quit
religion when I was a teenager.
“No, like committing to the mindfulness lifestyle in every moment.”
Oh, you mean full time obsession with mindfulness, Ms. Psych?
That’s more my speed.
My whole life has been about chasing impossible extremes. So why not?
You want me to feel the chair I’m sitting on,
the way my eyes open wider when yours do,
the way that the coffee you gave me
tasted like sweet, blessed dirt from the shoe of a prophet?
You want me to take on mindfulness full time-
In addition to stomping on what parts I can
of the world’s hierarchy and isms with the written word?
You want me to be mindful TOO?
I feel the chair beneath me.
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