Whispers from the past

My heart hangs heavy, as my mind starts to race
and once again the dance of insomnia begins.

Suffering from writers block has never settled with me, The thought of not being able to write or even express how I feel scares me more then anything my mind can manifest. It has become my lone voice in the jungle that is Corporate America. Though like any wild species on this planet I have a strong resilience and an even stronger survival mechanism, Even writing this shows I am slowly over coming what has clouded my mind for many days now.

So let me share with you, my few but hopefully loyal readers of what it was that was causing my mental suppression. I have never been one to wear my emotions on my sleeve, Once in awhile I will however let that slip and like a flood gate that was suddenly opened as surge of "feelings" come over me, all of them wrapped up in a nice cocktail. Knowing myself however is the key and a risky bet, Humans are by far the most complex creature on this planet as advanced as we like strut, our science knows very little about how our bodies truly works. As it was only recently have scientists discovered Cannabinoid receptors throughout our body. Interesting huh? or how about that our brains are part receivers for an invisible wave pattern in the space time continuum. For me knowledge is the secret, I may truly never learn the language of the universe as math still continues to fly way over the top of my head. The only way I could possibly describe it is the science has me spellbound.

So I was noting to the fact that sometimes my emotions get the better of me, I have learned through the years that we all suffer from this. Consider it a genetic disorder, As humans we often bottle up our emotions, our feelings suppressing them. As studies have shown this only does you harm, So each of us deal with this disorder in our own individual way. Mine just so happens to that my mind decides to become, well lazy. Refusing to tap into the creative side of my brain and string words together, The longest one of these episodes lasted as well over five years.

The Ironic part about the whole situation is now that I have cured my depression, who used to feel and think that the only reason I could write like I did and still do was because of my depression, my morbid and darker nature. Later of course I found out this to be wrong. Every time I lapse into disorder I find myself growing more and more depressed, an almost exact opposite from the way I was years ago.

Over the course of a month when I can calm the storm and catch some rem sleep, I find myself back at the hospital each time "new" things are revealed to me things that had happened but had suppressed or forgotten. Little things, and substantial things. I remember not being able to use the bathroom without someone standing in there with me, not that he tried anything it was the morality of the situation that I found frustrating. I went in under Suicide watch, stripped me of anything I could use that would be harmful down to my shoe laces. placed in a room where every ten minutes an attendee would walk by. Rounded up like cattle on "Their" time "their" desire for a cigarette and the worst memory of all the one that still haunts me to this day, a Judge telling me I was unfit to take care of myself. The whole time sitting there in a drug induced haze hardly able to even coherently speak or string words together in my mind, yet the words he spoke echoed through my ears, shaking me to my core that another human being had the power with the rise of his hand to take all my freedoms, all of my liberties.

I believe this is the first time I ever truly spoke up about that experience in my life, with good reason it should lay at rest within the darkest recess of my mind. A good thing came from such a horrible experience, I learned very quickly that I was perfectly sane, living in an insane world.
Even now if my insomnia were a drug I would be peaking, I have been up a total of 48 hours with no sleep or "power naps" and far from tired. Yet since I am writing this I am tapping into my creative side of the brain so I must be on the right track to once again centering myself.