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selfdisciplinedLion4579
3 251 M Embraced 2
PathStep 1 Compassion hearts60 Forum posts17 Forum upvotes44 Current upvotes44 Age GroupAdult Last activeMarch, 2025 Member sinceMarch 6, 2025
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Working on being positive
Anxiety Support / by selfdisciplinedLion4579
Last post
 October 3rd
...See more I've stopped listening to such sad depressing music. And listening to music that is upbeat and positive. I actually got out to play disc golf this weekend and met a group of guys who let me play with them. They were so awesome and positive and affirming. A song I have heard many times came on the radio this morning, and this newfound way of opening up and being honest with myself and others made me hear it in a completely different way. https://youtu.be/UAjbYlO2JNU?si=X7XI938_Rth2J9v-
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A Silence That Never ends
Poetry / by selfdisciplinedLion4579
Last post
 March 10th, 2025
...See more I’m not sure if I should post this on this forum. A Dream of Rest That Never Comes Pain—Not that which bruises flesh nor cuts beneath, Not the wounds that mend with time. Nay, that pain I know well, can see, can name, can press a hand upon and say, here, this is where it hurts. But this—this pain inside my head and in my chest unseen. It coils in the hollows of my ribs, It sinks into the marrow of my bones, A weight, I cannot lift. A wound, I cannot name.  And so, I wait. For the touch of warmth, a voice that whispers, "I see thy pain." For a light to fill the cracks, for a hand to reach through the dark and pulls me free.  But the silence answers in its place.  It is not empty. Nay, it is full— so full it crushes me beneath its weight. Thickens the air I breath, clings onto my skin, presses into my throat like hands, unseen. It has form, has teeth, has hunger. And it is patient.  It does not rage, does not weep— Simply waits, endless and knowing. It pulls me under, Encircles my throat, soft as a lullaby, merciless as the tide.  It knows my name. It knows how long I have wandered, how long I have waited for something to change. And so, it whispers—  "Why wait any longer?"  And so, I wonder— if I let go, if I slip beneath the quiet, Would the weight finally ease? Would the hush embrace me whole, And take me where the waiting ends?  And so, I begin to count the ways. A blade, sharp and certain, a rope, gentle in its promise, a fall, swift and final. Each one a door. Each one an escape. Each one whispering, “Come, rest.”  And the doors—oh, oh, how they call to me.  They neither creak nor groan in warning. They stand open, waiting, beckoning, edges gilded in silver light, thresholds soft as a lover’s arms.  "Come" they whisper, "Feel the peace, the hush, the ease. No more weight. No more waiting."  I turn my head to look away. The silence stops me, not. Nor beg me to stay. It only watches, as if to say, “I already know how this story ends.”  I part my lips and begin a plea— to scream, to beg, to call for help— but no sounds come. No one listening.  No one ever was.  So, I dream. I dream of a voice cutting through the hush, of footsteps in the distance drawing near. I dream of hands closing around mine, of the silence shattering at last. I dream of hope.  But the dawn draws nigh, and the dream wanes, slipping through my fingers like mist. And the silence remains, settling into my bones, pressing into my ribs until I am hollow.  It hums now. Low, steady, certain. Not cruel, not kind—just there, a presence I cannot shake, a shadow I cannot outrun.  And so, I wait again. For hope. For light. For something. But nothing comes. And the doors stand open, soft and waiting, whispering sweet lullabies, pulling me closer, closer. And the silence waits. And I do not know how much longer I can endure.
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The me no one sees
Anxiety Support / by selfdisciplinedLion4579
Last post
 November 30th, 2025
...See more My ChatGBT suggested I share on an open forum. So here we go. I'm having a really hard time pushing the post button. Me: I have the physical fortitude of a Timex watch, I'll take a licking and keep on ticking. But to even begin to answer this question I have to take you back just over thee decades. My step-dad was an angry man. He would berate you, yell and scream in your face for a long while over the smallest stupidest things. He made it a point that it was his house and he had to have things done his way, how he wanted, when he wanted. If your work wasn't done exactly right he would yell & scream & berate you, this wasn't just at me it was at the whole family. Telling you how stupid you are, how worthless you are, that you will never amount to anything. Every morning I had to wake up swallow my pride and prepare for the psychological beating I was going to receive that day. Due to this form of abuse I resigned myself to the shadows, holding my tongue staying silent, trying not to be noticed. Other family members who were supposed to love me, be patient with me started getting short. Impatient, angry at simple things. That abuse has definitely depleted my psychological fortitude. At school I always sought for a place to sit alone, "hide away from the world," if I may. I always thought that I was protecting them from me, my life, my family. But I have resently had a thought that I wasn't actually protecting them from me. I was protecting me from them. I didn't want to not be listened to, to not be heard, to be made fun of, the butt of jokes, to be made to feel like a stupid idiot, worthless, hopeless. All of this has carried over into my adult life. I can't hardly have a thought without the thoughts of how stupid I am, how worthless I am, that I will never amount to anything. Or that I won't be listened to, not heard, be made fun of, the butt of a joke, or be made to feel like a stupid idiot, worthless, hopeless. If I have any sense that any of these might play into reality I freeze up and don't do anything.
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