My Therapy Journal: A Journey of Healing
By Micah Mason
()
About this ebook
It is the actual journal of my therapy poems from when I started counseling until the current time. It was suggested by my first counselor years ago when I finally confronted my memories of repeated molestation events as a child. It also takes in life issues as I face the activities of life.
Micah Mason
Micah Mason has been a registered nurse for forty-three years and earned a PhD in natural medicine. She enjoys crafting, organic gardening, and learning about essential oils. She is a mother, a lifelong teacher, and healer who currently resides in Elyria, Ohio.
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My Therapy Journal - Micah Mason
Copyright © 2022 by Micah Mason.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed Attention: Permissions Coordinator,
at the address below.
Micah Mason /Author’s Tranquility Press
2706 Station Club Drive SW
Marietta, GA 30060
www.authorstranquilitypress.com
Ordering Information:
Quantity sales. Special discounts are available on quantity purchases bycorporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the SpecialSales Department
at the address above.
My Therapy Journal: A Journey of Healing/ Micah Mason
Hardback: 978-1-958179-63-5
Paperback: 978-1-958179-04-8
eBook: 978-1-958179-05-5
Dedication
The quilt on the cover of the book was made by the nine-year-old victim of molestation. She worked on the quilt indoors to avoid the neighbor outside.
This book is dedicated to my poetry pals. Both gave me unconditional love and pointed out my strengths. And to all the children who were molested or raped and didn’t get to voice their pain, anger, and depression. I hope these poems give you a voice.
And thanks to my friend for his technical support to fill in my gaps of knowledge about the computer.
INTRODUCTION
As I awakened from years of repression, depression, and denial, I decided I needed counseling for the years of molestation I had suffered as a child. It started with a seven-year-old Brownie going to a neighbor’s house to get an order for Girl Scout calendars. It seemed like an over-done, slobbery kiss as I left, but at seven you’re really not sure. That was the beginning of four years of hiding or being caught and molested. This evading and avoiding contact led to much stress and a state of chronic hypervigilance from age seven to eleven. As I discussed these things with my counselor, he suggested, as homework
that I should start journaling. The journaling began as prose-like diary entries but quickly changed to poetry after starting an American literature class.
These poems are raw, rough, and straight from my mind, heart, and soul. Though not elegant in the normal literary sense, they are elegant in their truthful expression of unfiltered emotions. They express the tender, painful wounds of depression to the point of feeling the tears rolling down my cheeks. Some can take wings of flight from pure joy finding healing in the evolution of the journey that is life. We always have the freedom of choice in how we respond to life events and our feelings. We can allow the tears of depression to drown us or they can become the saline that cleanses our wounds. When withholding, tears can grow to the steam of anger that leads to hurting others because we are in pain. Tears of sadness can weaken our resolves, so we give up hope and drown ourselves in alcohol or drugs. I chose to eat too much.
In the beginning, my choices were driven by depression which was not wise due to the binding despair and low self-esteem. But as I moved along the trails of life and different styles of therapy, so enough healing took place, I made better choices toward new steps. I moved from talk therapy to behavior modification and finally eye movement desensitization and reprocessing (EMDR).
These are the poems of my therapy journal that I started in the mid-eighties’ and have continued to the present day. As you watch the evolution of my healing of my moods, so do my poems evolve. Note also the change from self-absorbed pain to sassy looks at my broadened world.
By the grace of God, we will all evolve into another being through the pathway of life. Sometimes events are emotionally filled with pain, sadness, and fear, but love, hope, and faith can keep us glued together enough to bring us face to face with our purpose. When we can see that purpose, we can put energy into our lives to move toward goals. Then the journey moves from mere existence to life evolved, an evolution of body, spirit, and mind. Through this evolution, we transform from a cocooned insect frightened of being squashed, into a butterfly that can go to any height you can dream, imagine, or create. As I found my life purpose of healing and teaching others as a nurse, my journal can now be one of my tools of healing for others. So I am sharing my journal of life and healing in the hope it helps someone else to find healing. These poems show a wide range of emotions and experiences as I opened doors to my life and moved forward to new horizons. I also share insights on the life-happenings that gave birth to these poems. If you find something in them that I did not see as I wrote them and it does you good, take it. If bad, then let it go.
Contents
TOUCH
PAIN MAKES ME KNOW I’M ALIVE
HOW BARREN
TO MY SONS!
BART’S A BRAT,
I WONDER
AHHH!
EMOTIONAL PATHS
HOPE FOR JOY
THE GREATEST LESSON
A MILLION TEARS
SELF-INFLICTED ISOLATION
THE ONE WHO SHARED THE SECRET Oh! Angelica, my dear Angelica!
MY PRESENT GUILT
TO TRAVIS MY LOVE
SUBCONSCIOUS EXPRESSIONS
TO EZRA
IN CONTRADICTION TO HIS LOVE
UNFINISHED BUSINESS
BARED BY THE TALES
MY SISTER’S TRUE DEPTH
SICKNESS ON SICKNESS
DADDY SAYS
ON THAT LANE
MY POOR MOTHER’S FRUSTRATION
THROUGH A MILLION TEARS
A MILLION TO ONE
PRAISE TO THE FATHER
WITH THE DEVIL INSIDE
GOD SEEING ALL
REMEMBER WHEN
LOVE YOU
A SANDCASTLE BE
TO DONNA
LOVE AND DESIRE
GRANDMA DEAR
A PARADOX
DARKNESS
IN THE STILL OF THE NIGHT
LOVE TRAVIS
CLEANSED
A TOUCH OF LIFE AND HEALTH
HE TOUCHED ME
OF FLYING SNAKES
CERTAIN NOISES, SMELLS, AND SIGHTS
AMNESIA
WET AGAIN
THE TUNNEL
SUNBEAMS
BABE AT BREAST
A SPECIAL MOMENT WITH A DOCTOR AND WIFE
TIME TO LEAVE
WHAT THE NURSES SAW
THE HAT
SHE’S GOT LEGS
LAWN CHAIRS
I HATE HOT DOGS
TOASTED MARSHMALLOWS
WITH HIS WIFE IN THE NEXT ROOM
DIVING DEEP
I KNOW
I COULD BE
HE DOESN’T UNDERSTAND
I LIKE SCHOOL
GIVING UP IS HARD
I WANT GOD IN MY HEART
STAND UP FOR YOUR RIGHTS
CIGARS
SOMEONE KNEW
SHE KNEW TOO
HOW DID MY SISTER FEEL?
A FAMILY REUNION
MAKE EVERYDAY SPECIAL
GENETICS AND GOD’S GIFTS
GLASS TRAP
LIKE A TEENAGER
BORN OF SHAME
I HATE SNAKES
WHEN LOSING CONTROL
BROCK
SHAME, SHAME ON YOU
OF ROCKS AND ISLANDS
HATE
COUSIN TO COUSIN
NOT WORTHY
JANUARY 1986
WINTER WIND
TORN IN PIECES
ALICE OF THE LOOKING-GLASS
ALONE WITH LONELINESS
GHOSTS
! ! ! FREE ! ! !
FOR BETSY
DESPAIR
EMOTIONAL DEATH
NIGHTMARE CAGE
TO JUSTIN
TRUST
HAPPINESS’ HORIZON
TO MARGARET
HERE’S TO YOU, DION !
TRAPPED
TORTURED LIFE
TRIBUTE TO SELF-HELP BOOKS
VAMPIRE’S VICTIM
DIRECTIONS
CINDER CITY
3 BULLETS IN THE FLOOR
DROUGHT OF 93
I AM A PERSON
ANGER
I BELIEVE IN ME
GORE ORPHANAGE
SOME FUN LIMERICKS
THE FLOWER MAN
COLOR COMES TO MY WORLD
BLUE CHRISTMAS WRAP
LORD OF LIGHT
SHUT DOWN
RELENTLESS LOVE
THE BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN
SYMPHONY OF SYMPATHY
ASHLEY’S POEM
JOY’S SACRIFICE
HEADACHES WITHOUT END
MISSING TERRI
THE FORTRESS
LONGINGS
FOUND POEM from an OLD TEXTBOOK
HOPE FLOATS
OCHER STAIN
TO DROWN OR NOT TO DROWN?
HOPE
AWAY WITH SADNESS
NIGHT VIGIL FOR MOM
THE WEIGHT OF MY PEARLS
DAD
DAD’s SONG OF LOW SELF-ESTEEM
TO DAD
CRAZY KARINA
THE PAST
THE LAND OF TRUMPMANIA
TEARS FOR MY MOTHER
TO BEATRICE
GOOD-BYE TO DONATA
CLIMBING OUT
A YEAR OF LOSSES
CONTROL ADDICT’S POWER
LIFE
GLORIA
WAIT AND SEE
GO ON FAITH
A PATH OF LEARNING
OUT OF FOCUS
TENDER MOMENT
PARADOX TRAP
HEALING SCARS
ARCTIC NIGHTSHIFT
KINDNESS
REVELATION IN THE NIGHT
DREAMERS
PURPOSE
SUICIDAL THOUGHT
IN YOUR THOUGHTS
GOD IS LOVE
DAYS OF SADNESS
THE TEAR
THE HIGH RISE
YOUTH RE-VISITED
FALLING WISDOM
LIVING WELL
ABUSE OF SILENCING
FOREVER GREEN
DAYS OF GRAY
STRENGTH TOGETHER
I NEED TO BE NEEDED
SUMMER DROUGHT
MY SONS
GIFT FROM MY SON
SPECIAL FRIENDS
Introduction to New Poems
RELATIONSHIP
HIDDEN BUNNIES
AM I?
SUPER HEROES
HAIKU
BROKEN
JOYFUL POTENTIAL
ZERO
FINDING JOY
INAPPROPRIATE
DOGGY BLUES
MY LOST MOM
MAKES MIGRAINES MEANINGFUL
SORRY TO MY SON
INVISIBLE
SECRECTS
MY EVERYWHERE THERAPIST
LYING LEADER
I NEED A GOOD CRY
BIPOLAR ME
PRODUCT PILES
EMPTY WITHOUT YOU
THE POWER OF POETRY
?WHY?
A CHICKEN’S COUNSEL
THE EMPTY ZONE
AFTERMATH OF AN ARGUMENT
47 ASPIRINS
TODAY AT A GLANCE
TRUMP – McCONNELL VANITY WALL
CONDESCENSION
WRONG
BELOW THE DOME
FILLING SPACE
ENDLESS
WHY IS EXISTENCE?
NEVER
DISMISS
PURE EVIL
BEAUTY ON THE BEACH
BUTTERFLY GIRL
CORONAVIRUS
DON’T FEED THE GREED
COVID-19 PANDEMIC
HIS SLAVE
DEARLY
A THANK YOU
STROKES
UNDERSTANDING THE NOW
BERNIE BROS
UNSTUPIFYING OF AMERICA
HIAKU
GROWN-UP ADULTS
APRIL TORNADO
HIAKU
GETTING UP
AGAIN!
GROWING FEAR OF NUMBERS
CIRCLE OF NOISE
LOST SKILLS
SELFISH AND CRUEL
HOSTA
EMOTIONAL CONTROL
MISSING THE CALL
THE ARGUMENT
MAGNETIC REPULSION
LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD
PTSD – COVID-19
DAILY MOURNING
UNMASKED TRUTH
HIDDEN BEAUTY
NON – SYBIL
PERSONHOOD DISMISSED
MASKED VOICES
THE TEAR
THE PROTOCOL
ASEXUAL
NO! AUTO MOBILE
SABRINA’S SMILE
FOOD PHOBIC
COVID CRISIS
WHAT IS HAPPENING?
BEATEN DOWN by CHAOS
ANXIETY
The DON of DEATH’S DOMAIN
LOVE ME AS I AM
SELFISH SHORTSIGHTEDNESS
PEDOPHILE’S PARADISE
STATIC STATE of ANXIETY
INTRODUCTION TO POEMS FROM MICAH MASON’S FACEBOOK
PEDOPHILE’S PARADISE
TEMPORARILY CLEAN
TRUST FACTORS
FORGIVENESS FOR ME
MOURNING MY LIFE
THE HEALING GOES ON
RINGING MEMORY
INSURRECTION
PATIENCE ZONE
WEIGHING IN ON ISSUES
PATHETIC PUNK PRESIDENT
THE BRIDGE OF OBSTRUCTION
CAR POOL FOG
COUP BY CULT
FOOD FEAR
SAFE CHOICE?
WISHING
PARASITIC
REFUSED TO RECEIVE
BOOGERS BE GONE
DRAGON-EYE MOON
TOO MUCH ICK
ON THE MENU
THE SOLUTION MENU
PASSIVE SUICIDE
FLY FROM STRESS
SHARED STRESS
THE ESCAPE DOOR
SOUR MILK
STANDING TALL
MID-APRIL SNOW
CLIMATE CHANGE IS REAL!
MORAL LEPER
WHAT I SEE
HOLLOW VESSEL
VAX TO RELAX
ORIANA
ABSENT HERO
HIS SMELL
THE WRITER’S AWARD
VERONICA’S HOME
THE RAIN OF LIES
MY TWIN, MY HERO
HIS WINNER’S TROPHY
ENERGY STEALING CLIMATE
WHATEVER IT TAKES
NO SEWING MACHINE NOW
A DOOR TO CONTROL
HATE OF LIFE
AMERICA SINKS
TROPHY OF CONTROL
THE PRICE OF LIFE
NO COMPUTER BRAIN
NO SOCIAL RELATIONSHIP
MY REPEATING HISTORY
MY HOARDER’S HOUSE
LACK IN ABUNDANCE
THE CAT LADY’S RATIO
THE VIEW BEFORE YOU
DEVOID SOULS
SAGED INSIGHT
USED UP
EPILOGUE:
HYMN RESOURCE LIST:
SELF-HELP BOOKS LIST and INTERNET WEBSITE LIST
TOUCH
Touch or be touched.
What an empty,
Inescapable prison
Is this black hole
That I call existence.
How frighteningly lonely.
Eternal void,
Self-encapsulated
Into a vacuum.
(To be safe you can self-imprison in an emotion-free bubble.)
PAIN MAKES ME KNOW I’M ALIVE
I have to wonder whether
I actually exist.
Were it not for the pain,
I would say no, I do not exist.
Only the pain keeps me wondering
And hedging at a yes.
Could it be I fear the loss of pain,
Whether as guilt or physical aches,
Because then I would cease to exist?
Only living things feel pain.
I have pain, I am alive.
(Chronic depression, hypervigilance, and chronic stress all cause bodily pain from inflammation.)
HOW BARREN
Oh! How barren desolate is her heart
In a feelingless existence thou art.
No pangs of love or pangs of hate.
Nothing more pierces her armor plate.
Chaste, impotent, barren always be;
Cold, lonely, and ever empty is she.
Oh! How barren is the house
That lays without people or mouse.
Or their happy ringing noise
Enveloped in drifts of snow.
Chaste, impotent, barren always;
Cold, lonely, and ever empty is she.
(So much of your world doesn’t feel emotionally safe, so you isolate more and more -- consciously or unconsciously. Walls go up, and you are more and more alone. When both parties in a relationship are damaged from childhood events, wall obstruct any possibility of a relationship. A state of clinical loneliness becomes status quo.)
TO MY SONS!
I know that now
You are not old enough
To understand.
But when
You are older and can,
Then I hope
You will read this.
You stomp