Analysis Of The Healing Process

There’s a chance I might ramble tonight, my emotions have been all over the place, so bear with me. It’s been a rough day, in terms of lacking motivation and not feeling like myself.

One of those days, mother nature does not make things any easier, so there’s that. I managed to get it together later on in the day; did a 30 minute workout, took all my supplements, did my skincare, ate consistently throughout the day, got some new groceries in the morning.

So, all in all, I got through the worst of what I was feeling.

As much as sleeping all day and eating junk was an option, I decided to get on with my daily routine, and stay productive. I’m really glad I did, because I feel a lot better.

Not giving in to temptation is something I’m proud of. In the past, I thought the best way to feel better was to eat junk, distract myself with sleep or binge watch a show or two. All those things are okay to do in moderation, but it doesn’t solve the problem.

I’m trying to teach myself discipline, self-control in terms of food and what I consume on a regular basis. Working on these things is not easy, you don’t change habits overnight, but over time, it becomes easier to manage and keep under control.

You have to dig deep, when it comes to understanding why you do certain things, and the predictable patterns that arise as a result. Once you understand the root cause, that’s when you can properly begin the healing process.

Trauma of any kind is hard to process, and it can take a long time to face it, acknowledge it, be able to speak about it, and also, learn to heal from it and move forward.

Every person’s journey is different, and that’s something I always bear in mind when talking about my own experiences in life, what I’ve been through and how it made me the person I am today.

I think I’ll leave it at that for now, I might elaborate further in future posts on the blog. Excuse the essay tonight, it’s not often I get so invested in what I write, although that is the whole point of DAYDREAM MADNESS.

This is my sanctuary of thought, where I can speak openly and feel a sense of comfort. Writing has always been a powerful outlet for me, it helped me through some dark times, which I’ll be forever grateful for.

Have a good evening, take care of you, stay kind.


Mila. Xo

Ignited Feelings Of Worry

When it comes to fear, or the stresses of certain situations, I often try to analyze and accept what I’m feeling at that particular moment.

Sometimes, it’s not always so easy.

My mind is slightly complex, the same yet different to everyone else’s.

I used to feel shame at getting overwhelmed over some things, it felt like I was the only one at times. (bear in mind, I’ve come a long way and it’s not as bad as it used to be)

To be honest, talking about it shouldn’t have to feel awkward. Everyone has their own struggles and worries, some are just more manageable than others.

And that’s okay, something I often tell myself in notes, diary entries etc.

Life has been a strange and complicated journey, but I’m grateful and blessed in many ways, and I’ve got a good support system.

I’m writing this currently on my phone because I have no energy to use my laptop. Got a few things to do tomorrow, nothing special.

Just hoping that it’ll be okay and I’ll have my peace of mind restored in no time.

This brings us to the end of another blog entry.

I’ll be back tomorrow to share yet another day of thoughts. This is truly a sanctuary for my mind.

God bless you all, and stay safe.

Mila. Xo

Cursed Is The Girl

People always used to tell me, that a creative child usually becomes a troubled adult.

Well, I used to dismiss the theory. It seemed cliché to me, at least, during my teenage years.

Maybe, that was the denial talking. I’ve always wanted to get down to the root cause, but there has been many examples of it.

I often find myself too involved, the mind can play tricks if you allow it, but it can also help you untangle past behaviors, patterns that seem to align, things you simply can’t shake off.

If my brain was an internal drive, which in many ways, it is, I doubt it would be in a solid state.

As technology progresses, I hope it evolves in a way that changes lives and enhances their sense of knowledge in more ways than just one or the other.

The other thing I find myself worrying about, is the high expectations on my shoulders and the validation that comes along with it, or lack of, if I’m honest.

Existence & Purpose

When you lose your identity in the recycling bin, how do you find that part of you again?

I’m beginning to think, I have a long way to go.

Ever since I can remember, I associated my willingness to help others as my main source of purpose.

On this journey, I have come to understand everything a lot clearer.

It’s hard to articulate this in a way that wouldn’t offend. I’ve suppressed it all to the point where I just go along with the chaos. I don’t like it, even freaks me out most days. Back in the day, this blog was my only sanctuary for all these thoughts. It still is, but to a lesser extent.

To share is one thing, it’s one of the only things that make sense anymore.

Everything else is a blank, quite honestly. I could write a book about this, my mind is an abyss of thought, a lot of it has never been fully dissected nor processed.

To say that I am currently lost in the archive is an understatement. There’s so much I have yet to learn, to see, to experience.

I often wonder, what is my purpose, guide me to where I am meant to stand.

Is this modern world for an old soul like mine? Who knows.

Anyway, excuse the rambling. This is the first blog post where I haven’t been feeling empty. Let’s hope the new decade brings a lot of better days.

Love,

Mila. Xo

Hours That Follow, A Poem Draft From Book #3

There’s something about the midnight hour, I can’t understand how it works, or if it calms my soul enough to heal my battle wounds.

Either way, it builds my core, to the point of nausea. You push yourself to the edge and somehow recover, just to fall back on your word again.

It’s a continuous cycle, the same routine of thought, as time leads you on a journey.

You can either hide in denial, or confront your darkest personality traits in depth.

To cut ties with fear of abandonment, a need for approval; Am I losing touch with reality or am I too aware of my own weaknesses and destructive mindset?

It takes a lot to admit defeat, and admit that you’re a broken individual.

So for the time being, love your fellow entities that surround the halls of your mind. For the present hour, cherish the hours that follow.

Be fearless, love the obstacles that test you. Kill the fear that haunts your path.

Free the mind, cure the anxiety of not knowing what’s going to happen next.

Heart On The Line

“This poem is a favorite of mine. I feel like it should be in the yet-to-be-released book, although the process is still ongoing. But you can always comment below and tell me what you think. Yay or Nay?”

The idealistic expectations of what is to be, is at times melancholy at best.

We seek redemption in the arms of strangers but for whom is this comfort suited?

Driven into the arms of someone else out of spite. Dusk until dawn, the nostalgic lust could last for weeks on end.

The picturesque beauty of love was slowly tainted by the broken promises on our bedroom nightstand.

For a minute, it would be heaven to pretend, that an illusion like this could be of greater proportion and depth.

Written out by hands cold from rejection and eyes blinded by devotion to a falling grace upon the stars.

You put your heart on the line, but at what cost?

depth of thought

cropped-tumblr_mj3s0yobg91qcdtsho1_12801.jpg

It’s never as lovely as the movies depict it, neither as pleasant as we’d like it all to be.
We rarely voice concern over the things that trouble us the most, but we ought to.

I would have appreciated more willingness to listen, regardless of understanding,
but it seems like I’ll never truly get that closure that everyone longs to gain,
from the moments of deep thought, which I am sure; we all have.

There are moments I gain strength from living in dark of my abilities,
but other times, all you feel is bitter blows of reality toppling your chest,
to the point where it really couldn’t get worse, even if you tried.

Life is a strange thing, in all sense of the word.

I’m rather fond of what surrounds me, but-
it does feel quite empty at times…

unrequited emotion

When love hurts; it’s the real kind. I found myself saying that,
as I bit my tongue and patiently waited for tears to stop falling down.
I’ll be okay, you said. stupid enough, but I fell for that lie.

Years down the line, here I am. I feel more broken than ever and it’s all because I can’t seem to let go of past memories that now haunt my soul like a skeleton in the closet.

As the days turn into months and then so forth, you start to feel empty inside, like nothing could hurt you more because it’s already too painful. I trusted you when you said I’d be okay, that it was okay to feel like this as long as I knew it was going to get better.
I now found it all to be a complete lie. I found it wasn’t better, no improvement in the slightest and I feel like a fool for thinking I could believe you after your departure.

I’m sure everyone’s thinking the same; poor girl, having a pity celebration for days.
although, it was far worse; it was the definition of ice-cold hatred towards self.

Sure, they both are pretty much the same thing, but I guess it depends…

I’ve found solace in written drafts, hidden notes all over the web.
personally, it’s a relief to pour my emotions out in peace like this.
I know, I’m not the greatest writer or artistic creation – I’m a mess.

Honestly, poems are a loophole, a sense of belonging and unconditional support, something that will never just stand up and walk out the door, or tell you it doesn’t love you anymore, unlike the people who walk in and out of your life as if your existence is fading. I write to free my soul of pain, to feel the weight fall off my shoulders, just to feel alive once again. I’m sure it means little or nothing to others, but without my creativity, I’d most likely not be here anymore and that’s just how that is. I feel it completes me, strengthens me and helps me rise from the ashes no matter how badly I burn in the fire of the moment and the pain of old tragedies. Nostalgia finds itself around me still though.

As I write this, I overthink the concept without intent, I censor my mind to sound less of a crazy person than I already think I am. I judge my every word before anyone gets a chance, I find myself writing all the things my mind is thinking. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, neither do I even know the difference. but regardless, here I am; as bare and brutally honest as a person will ever be, sharing a piece of me I’d usually keep to myself.

Writing in general helps me cope, it’s the one thing I turn to in times of pain.

 

 

the heart has a mind, and it adores you

The faces are always you, by the looks of it, and I’m tired of pretending like I don’t love that, or the fact you make me ever so smitten, despite the amount of distance between us. It could be years from now and I’d still feel your hologram hand on my shoulder, flickering lights go off in my head and I am alive once again. The day you touched my soul, it turned gold. Memories live on inside of my mind and I don’t think I’ll ever want to forget your effect. As crazy as it seems, you’re a dream come to light, angels and demons would have a fight when it comes to your source of energy. It was a mix of good and bad, the kind of balance anyone would lean over for, would fight all their lives to gain just an ounce of. You see drugs on a table as a bad influence, but not the walking temptations that roam the streets, breaking the hearts of doomed souls for a laugh. Addictions can rise from a simple touch to a captivating smile. Anything or anyone can make you feel alive. Even your worst enemy can give you something you’ve never had, life is full of twists and turns, and we’ll never learn, because that’s a part of our lives, we make a mess, we make amends, but the heart stays true to it’s belief.

nostalgia bites

It’s been a long time to forbid emotions to run like a water tap
love drips all into my heart and I am lost for words
mainly because it’s drowning in lust

The image of yours is stuck in my brain like a virus
I can’t get rid of you nor do I want to erase you
from my heart, or my brain, or my dreams

I am taken aback by these strong waves of depth
intense nostalgia running through my head
forever lost in standing time.