AS DRAGON #1 IS CLEARLY NAMED, MY RAGING ATTITUDE NEEDS BE TAMED!

First things first—upon reviewing today’s post as well as
The one published previous to this one, both prove in need of
Grammatical editing aimed at easing your processor’s
Absorption of insights with mental clarity intact —

Once my processor rests up, I plan to direct
The conscious portion of my brain (which listened up
Attentively during one English class after another) to
Correct mistakes based in complexity of thought
Flowing naturally through the intuitive portion of
My brain toward my finger tips, each of which
Hits the keyboard as swiftly as a well practiced
Though not perfected pianist, who, while
Engaged in performing, does not consciously
Acknowledge which finger is tapping each
Key, moment by moment, and
While my conscious mind is reconsidering these
Trains of thought with my hold onto clarity intact
I plan to maintain a heightened level of
Conscious awareness concerning my need for
Self control so as to temporarily curb
My well practiced intuitive powers from
Re-emerging ever so freely during
This particular editing process so that
My sixth sense will remain in a semi-dormant
State of being rather than feeling stimulated to
Fully awaken yet another insight-driven dive into
Subconscious territory where additional
Secrets I keep from myself are stored until
My conscious connection to readiness to
Hear yet another deeper truth call out to
Me as if to say:  Annie, once again, you’ve
Grown toward taking another leap of faith upon
Having mustered the courage to work toward
Achieving the next level of mental gymnastics
Necessary to pave your personal path with
Inner strengths so as to identify and overcome
Yet another deeply repressed fear of
The great unknown that lies directly ahead, and
Annie, here is the insight that’s bound and
Determined to shine its spotlight upon
The emergence of today’s deeper truth:
As loved as you now feel by many who have
Come to value the kindness born of
Unconditional love that fills your heart to
Overflowing with compassion, your
Mind’s eye can clearly see that
The sweet, scared half to death, three year old
Little girl’s subconscious fear of walking through
Life’s storms, all alone, with her head held high so
As to mask the depths of her need for
Loving comfort bolstered by respectful, emotional
Support can be safely left in the past based in this fact:
As my future continues to unfold, I will not feel so
Unworthy of love when I tire while helping others as
To feel fearfully guilty upon calmly voicing
My needs, which may conflict with my loved ones’
Need of me, and clearly feeling freed of undeserved guilt
I need not fear being insulted, or chastised or left to
Fend for myself—during life’s harshest time, all alone
Triple Whew!

And now, having offered your processor
A heads up concerning your choice to read on or
Await the re-groomed versions of deeply
Complex trains of thought (which, upon completion
Will surely be announced) I’d like to remind you that—
My first thought is not always my best thought
For example—I titled today’s train of thought:
AS DRAGON #1 IS CLEARLY NAMED
MY RAGING ATTITUDE NEEDS BE TAMED!
When deeper truth suggests that
MY REPRESSED FURIES RUN SO DEEP AS TO
BE IN NEED OF ROARING RATHER THAN
TAMING BEFORE THE SELF ASSERTIVE PORTION OF
MY VOICE CAN EXPRESS ITSELF ALOUD IN
A MANNER OF SPEAKING SO CALMLY AND
CLEARLY AS TO INTUITIVELY (THUS
INSIGHTFULLY)TAP INTO DEEPER TRUTHS SO
MINDFULLY AS TO BE THE SHOT HEARD
(AND SERIOUSLY CONSIDERED) ROUND THE WORLD
(I mean, otherwise, why is my power of intuition guiding
My processor to pen and send each next string of
Insights into cyberspace, day after day?)
.
Ahhh!  My second thought feels so much better than my first!
Why?  Well—here comes today's string of insights (once again
Older ones serving to brighten my current point of
View so as to ignite insights, which, feeling brand new, will
Surely highlight the primary reason as to why today's first thought
(Which had been sparked, unconsciously, by my imagination’s
Dark side, to pen the title) had need to switch tracks toward
My second thought, which, rather than being
Darkly imaginative, is bound to resonate with a deeper sense of
Truth based in my think tank’s conscious awareness of my less than
Wearied thought processor’s recently restored reconnection to logic:

As the homily states: There’s a place for everything and
Everything in its place, suggesting that in this case
My exhausted processor had need of being plugged into
A quiet place in which to feel totally at rest before
My 'lost' connection to logic could feel so naturally
Recharged as to overcome my dark side's deeply
Imaginative thoughts, which proved empowered to
Overwhelm my sense of personal safety once
A current event had triggered a spike of anxiety to
Strike the exhausted state of the logic-based portion of
My think tank just as lightening, during a thunder storm
Strikes a tree, and as, once again, my processor's vulnerabilities
Felt violently exposed, another fear, buried alive and carried
Forward throughout my life in an unprocessed and thus unidentified
State of being erupted through my wall of denial so unconsciously
As to have whipped my subconscious engineer into
A frenzy, which spun what little was left of
My mental strengths into such downward spiral as to
Have caused my mind's eye to fail to see train tracks, directly
Ahead, leading nowhere but cliffside before my blindsided
Intelligence had time to slam on my brain’s brakes, and thus
At breakneck speed did the dark side of my mind usurp control over
ALL of my think tank as my thought processor was subconsciously
Swept back across the time line, where rather than 75, I 'was'
Once again, three, plunging straight down so as to hit bottom
In such an ungrounded manner as to have descended as deep as
Deep can be into the time frame when my home life had felt like
That gorge-like bottomless black hole that had swallowed
Every spirit in my family whole during the aftermath of
My baby sister's death, so utterly consumed had my brain become
As though, once again, my think tank, having been triggered to
Succumb to being sucked into that deeply repressed caldron
Boiling over with a lifetime’s worth of inter-related repressed
Fears concerning my worthlessness (?) had been
Laying in wait to swallow my spirit along with today's smarts
Ever since when? ever since Janet's sudden death, at which time
My undeveloped three year old think tank had literally looked up to
Adult role models for ‘guidance’ as to how to feel and react, because
The instinctive portion of my brain, like every human brain, had been
Preprogrammed before birth to mimic adult reactions as
A means of unconsciously absorbing whatever my eyes saw
And whatever my ears heard as being 'necessary' for
Personal survival while my role models and I
Made our way through life’s classic celebrations as well as
Life’s harshest hardships, and during the extreme emotional
Upheaval, following Janet's death, I, left 'on my own' with only
My three year old processor (in its immature state of being)
Could in no way fathom much less comprehend or absorb
Any of the deeply macabre changes that had, without
A moment’s warning, transformed our cheerful
Loving, well organized home life into a psychological study of
An extended family’s descent into each person's
Highly personalized hell—based in the undeniable fact that
Two sudden deaths, within the brief span of six weeks, had
Spun our sunny little corner of the world off of its axis, and
As each of my role model's minds spiraled directly away from
Emotional safety, all of our processors, including mine
Crash landed on a foreign planet that left our spirits in a place
So darkly foreboding as to have given rise to my feeling subconsciously
Terrified of the future as if everywhere I'd looked, all that could be
Seen on the faces of my loved ones was a terrifying vision of darkness
Ahead as if each of us had personified a black cat, condemned to walk
Under one ladder after another, at midnight, no chance of sunrise
Ahead, and as this confounding state of terror, forever, gripped
My heart and tore into my mind, a small child was destined to
Experience episodes of PTSD once my fear of the future was
Buried alive behind my defense system's wall of denial so as to grow
Ever more bold most especially as I age and subconscious
The Specter of Death, which dwells within the dark side of my mind
Subconsciously threatens the survival of everyone I love—
Young and old—As to death coming in threes—over these past
Couple of weeks, in addition to normal calls, my phone rang thrice—
Each time announcing the death of a person I loved, or someone
I knew or whom had been loved by one of my loved ones, who'd
Cried aloud in pain

With the re-emergence of older insights, which, as my brain
Rested, began to poke their way through my processor’s dark side so
As to filter, one by one, into the still exhausted, bright side of
My think tank, which has been slowly but steadily regaining
Its hold onto clarity, little by little, my processor’s well-developed
Power of intuitive intelligence has been whispering of
My mental readiness to fire off small sparks of positive focus, which
Along with my self worth, had been locked out of the conscious
Portion of my processor for several weeks with this caveat:
I didn't 'forget' that exhaustion, followed by a series of
Triggering events, drags my sunny spirit into the underworld that
Exists within my brain.  I mean exhaustion has been one of
Several triggers that leaves me vulnerable to be seized by
An attack of PTSD so many times that you'd think that during
My darkest hours at least one vestige of deeper truth would whisper
Of hope into my ear—and if you think that's true of me then
I'd agree, because in recent years, I've come to know at my core that
Even during my darkest hours, my well developed power of intuition
Can be heard encouraging my adult processor to listen up as in—Annie
You've hit bottom before and worked your way back up to
Clarity after resting in solitude—and so with the help and loving
Respectful support of family and your closest friends in whom
You feel safe to confide, you'll succeed, again, and thus
With the passage of these past several weeks, while
My wearied host of mental strengths continued to rest so as to
Re-energize, my spirit has continued to revitalize my
Realistic sixth sense concerning the true nature of my self worth—
Not just today, but as a sweet child of three, and as my mind, body
And spirit continue to inch ever so slowly but consistently toward
Restoration, I have been working my way out of the gorge, yet again
And thus has my bright side, which still wearies more quickly than
Usual, is currently guiding me to show you what happened when
The negatively focused dark side of my imagination
Held my positive focused connection to reality hostage within
Time frame of my think tank's unprocessed past, I'm planning to
Offer you a post, penned last week (though not published till
Today), which will exemplify the ease with which
The dark side of human nature, triggered to be released
Empowered my imagination to fool my brain's processor into
Conjuring up a fire-breathing dragon-like demon, which
I led myself to believe 'resides' within the underworld of
My brain, and as this dragon may prove to be the primary
Focus of the deeply repressed terror that I find so terrifying
As to have triggered my anxiety to spike so high as to strike down
All of my conscious connection to emotional self control, we shall
Watch this darkly imagined dragon lash my sense of personal safety to
A stake where my smarts, concerning my self worth, goes up in
Flames each time an episode of PTSD is triggered by
A current event that in any way 'resembles' the scariest time of
My three year old life, and as you can imagine, when
An episode of PTSD is triggered while mental exhaustion can
Play negatively focused tricks on the wounded portion of
My self esteem, my wearied think tank falls into
A mind maze where my tensely tightened oxygen-deprived
Body (which includes my brain) blinds my mind's eye from
'Seeing' myself choking on subconscious smokescreens, which
Prohibit my smarts from fathoming whatever is actually
Tormenting my personal safety, 'today', in the same way that
Had caused three year old me to plunge straight
Into a hell hole where bitter memories that I'd witnessed
Concerning terrifying episodes of mother-daughter betrayal
(Personified by my gramma and my mother) during
The emotionally torrential weeks that had followed
My sister's tragic death, and since I was too young to process
The meaning of negatively charged words exchanged between
Two of my most influential role models, back then, the hell, encased
In smoke and mirrors that I lose myself within, today, feels
Every bit as darkly confounding and personally threatening to
My self worth as had felt true back then when I'd no clue as to why
Furiously charged condemnations shrieking back and forth throughout
The air as though to raise the dead, continued to make a child, just
Turning three, to cower, trembling, as though her very life
Was threatened, under a table where I'd bury my head while
My chest and abdominal muscles grew as tense as a
A pair of tightly clenched fists, leaving my lungs gasping for
Air, starving my heart of oxygenated blood, necessary for
Adult Annie to think straight so as to 'find' MY way out of
This mind maze, which has a trap door that will continue to be
Triggered until the bright side of my mind grows so
Intuitively, insightfully strong as to sense each next episodic
Plunge into PTSD before I reach exhaustion's point of
Slo-mo return, and since I believe the primary cause of
Traumatized fear has remained actively repressed within
The dark side of my brain since I was a child, not yet three
I've recently come to see that—“It’s the assessment of
A circumstance that matters not the circumstance, itself”
(I lifted that quote from a horoscope, which was not
Mine until my processor’s slo-mo resurgence of clear
Mental energy caught wind of this fact:
A morsel of wisdom, like that, benefits, one and all)

Each time my processor has been in over-drive
Over long, my mental strengths exhaust freeing
Repressed, though unidentified insecurities, common
To three year old children, to arise and overwhelm
The conscious portion of my processor's adult
Intelligence, repeatedly.  And though today's insights
Are not new to me, I am becoming ever more aware of
The fact that decisions to stretch myself beyond
Human endurance have been made by
The deeply repressed, insecure portion of
My think tank at times when mental weariness has already
Grown too great to withstand more of the same, and
My propensity to pressure myself to produce more than
Is humanly possible has been based in the flawed, deeply
Repressed impression of my worthlessness, which was
Born soon after my sister's death, and I have a feeling that
Within that pocket of my subconscious lives and breathes
A false self evaluation that repeatedly stretches
My already exhausted think tank on a rack, where I am at
Risk of temporarily annihilating my host of mental
Strengths so completely that they plunge into yet another
Ever deepening, spiraling episode of PTSD, which
Upon erupting through my ‘everything is swell persona’
Fires up the repressed and thus unnamed dragon that
Drags my sunny spirit so swiftly straight back across
The timeline into its lair that my current level of
Mental intelligence wholly succumbs to my dark side’s
Lifelong subconscious, imaginative nightmares to such
A deeply alarming, self-degrading degree as to signal
A three year child's unresolved anxiety, buried alive, to
Spike so high as to knock out my processor’s bright side with
Yet another unforeseen sucker punch (as my gramma sucker
Punched my mother's heart, spirit and processor during
The most deeply vulnerable, pain wracked time of
My 'mommy's' life), and each time my smarts are unconsciously
Flung so far into the past as to cause my brain to reincarnate
The utterly confounded, totally terrified, barely three year old
Me, whose upbeat home life had morphed within seconds flat into
A death dirge drawn out over so many months as to have
Left the resilience of my spirit utter limp as though
I, rather than my mother, had been beaten to a pulp within
An inch of my life, and to illustrate that last intuitively written
String of insights, here it comes—the post
Penned (and titled) by the dark side of
My imaginative mind, last week:
***************************
A dragon, residing within my subconscious, awaits
My exhaustion before pouncing upon my mental
Vulnerabilities, thus empowering itself to drag
My spirit into the darkest, most tortuous dungeon of
My brain where my current lack of energy is
Lashed to a fiery spit so as to sear my self image to
A crisp, yet again, and this visualization of a deeply
Repressed, self conceived misbelief, which has
Anxiously needled my self confidence concerning
Self worth, began at the age of three at which time
I lived and breathed after my baby sister, adored
Openly by all, stopped breathing and died, and
Finding my terrible self alive while a child, whom
I'd wished had disappeared, had done exactly that
Leaving my entire family in the hell hole of despair
I am not worthy of their love unless my think tank can
Make sure that no one else stops breathing, forever
And if I fail to be such a good girl that I'm adored as
Much as Janet was then I don’t deserve to live and
Feel happy whenever those I love are not
Free of strife unless—I successfully stretch my brain to
Assuage their pain—Oh my God!—If that’s not
A God complex (unknowingly absorbed and repressed into
My three year old subconscious) speaking through
My intuitive powers then what is?
I’ll tell you what this is—
This is the traumatized portion of
My processor begging for release from every aspect of
Undeserved survivor's guilt so as not to feel
The demise of my self worth so easily aroused each
Time my processor tires, freeing each next episode of
PTSD to be self empowered to disarm and suck my host of
Earnestly won, mental strengths into that black hole where
My personal sense of safety feels dependent upon
Making such sound use of my acquired wealth of
Knowledge concerning family communications as to
Charge myself with feeling certain that
Every relationship in my little corner of the world will
Feel swell, forever—and ever since I began to write
This blog/memoir, several years back, guess what
Happened?  My little corner of the world has
Swelled to include every person on
Planet Earth whose personal well being is
Endangered by a slew of fire breathing
Dragons, whose maniacal hunger for
Power cares not whose lives are arrested or
Whose spirit is trampled or whose well being is
Devoured, straight down to terrified little children
Separated from anguished parents, who will develop
PTSD as surely as had been true of me after
Our baby ‘disappeared’ and I had no clue
As to where she (and my beloved grandfather, who
At 52, had been hearty until he died suddenly of
A massive heart attack, six weeks before
My sister stopped breathing), so that both had
Disappeared as though a lightening bolt had flashed into
Our lives, dragging my family into the dark side where
The sun would never (?) shine, ever again as it had
Once upon a time, because even when the sun did shine
After my second sister's birth, I had no conscious clue of
My dark side having swallowed this question, which, behind
My wall of denial has haunted my spirit's smile, subconsciously
24/7—since my grandpa and our baby disappeared, never to
Return then who might suddenly be next?
Mommy?  Daddy?  Or Me?

Though some of you, who have followed my blog since
Its inception, may recall the fiery argument, which (having
Arisen several weeks after our baby’s death
Rocked our emotional environment, as if
A third earthquake, registering at a ten, had caused
Whatever little was left of my personal sense of
Safety to implode my think tank’s
Subconscious absorption of undeserved guilt concerning
Who had actually been responsible for
Causing Janet's disappearance, and
Those of you who have already read that
Story posted, several years back, may also recall
The primary reason why my depressed, three year old
Spirit bounced back rather than dragging at
Half mast throughout each stage of my life as is true of
So many children, whose low energy yields quietly to
Spiking attacks of anxiety or, on the other hand, that
Story highlights insights concerning the primary reason why
I'd refrained from ‘acting out’ negatively whenever
My self worth suffered a direct hit, and now
As my life story is being rewritten, story by story, post by post
You shall witness my sister's death, the argument that threw
My processor over the cliff as surely as Wiley Coyote plunges
Consistently downward while the Roadrunner's processor
Remains cool as a cucumber—Beep Beeping his way toward
Personal safety, again—this positively focused description of
Both sides of my think tank, suggests that my smarts are bound and
Determined to transform my runaway Wiley Coyote into
My Roadrunner's sidekick that that my first (unprocessed) recovery
From early childhood depression will reappear, sooner than
You may suppose—As for now, today’s intuitive train of thought
Leads my think tank to ask us to seriously consider this next question:

How many millions of low energy people (like those
As yet not diagnosed with walking pneumonia) are
Walking through life suffering undiagnosed episodes of
Oxygen-deprived PTSD?  How many, who experience
Anxiety and/or mild (thus undiagnosed) depression have
No conscious clue of this next fact, long
Acknowledged by the science of psychology:
Our defense systems must work ever more intensely
24/7 to restrain repressed fury and pain, which
Existing within subconscious memory in an
Unprocessed state of mind, remain unidentified?

Emotional pain, repressed in an unicentified state
Cannot be released in a healthy manner, so
One day, like an over stretched rubber band constricting
A wide variety of unresolved fearfully furious reactions
We can’t hold back the undertow for even one more
Second, so our nerve ends snap, shocking
Everyone in sight, who witnesses that which
The untrained mind deems an over-reaction, when
Actually, the camel’s knees have been buckling
Long before its ultimate collapse is witnessed once
The final straw has landed upon his overwrought back

Though common knowledge indicates that everyone’s
Brain contains a holding tank of tightly compressed
Deeply repressed, left over fear and/or rage
We commonly express shock and perhaps self disgust
When our very own naturally repressed
Emotional reactiveness erupts through our
Defensive walls of denial, and if we subconsciously
Harbor a self defeating, lack of self worth so as to
See our own occasional outbursts as horrible rather than
Natural to all human beings then upon repressing wrath
Yet again, our spirits and mental state of mind may
Grow ever more rageful or depressive—why?
Because repressing rage, overlong, redirects our
Brain’s main source of energy toward maintaining
The insulation of our walls of denial behind which
Burning angst fires up upon a pyre that grows ever
More smoky while we believe our own emotional
Pretense that we take out in public( known as
Our persona) suggesting that
All is well, deep inside, until our spirits’ fuel tanks
Are sucked bone dry, and if a person has
Experienced reason to repress mild episodes of
PTSD over his/her lifetime—
Well, we are kegs of emotional TNT awaiting the next
Bump in a road rockier than we consciously
Remember to blow our persona’s facade to
Kingdom come!  In a nutshell—
The scientific definition of clinical depression is
Unidentified rage subconsciously repressed, over long ...
In my case—

I HAVE BEEN REPRESSING
OVERWHELMING SENSATIONS OF FURY
OVERLONG—FOR EXAMPLE, ONE OF
MY FIRE-BREATHING FURIES IS BASED IN
THE FUTILITY OF CONFRONTING
IRRATIONAL BRAINS AT ALL LEVELS OF
LEADERSHIP, WHO FEAR PULLING
THEIR PROCESSORS OUT OF THE SWAMP SO
AS TO FACE REALITY HEAD ON, AND BEING
THAT THAT’S JUST THE FIRST
NAKED FURY, WHICH HAS SWELLED BEYOND
MY PROCESSOR’S WELL PRACTICED
CONNECTION TO SELF DISCIPLINED CONTROL
TODAY’S TRAIN OF THOUGHT IS SPOTLIGHTING
MY NEED TO CHANGE MY ATTITUDE FOR
THE BETTER BEFORE MY BRAIN FEELS SO
FURIOUSLY ENFLAMED AND DERANGED AS TO
STROKE OUT—I MEAN, WHAT GOOD CAN
I DO IF I’M DEAD OR DEPRESSED OR
RAGEFULLY OUT OF CONTROL?
IN SHORT, I FEEL ALL OF THIS BEHIND
MY WALL OF DENIAL WHERE MY BLOOD STREAM
HAS BEEN BOILING OVER WITH ANGST AS
THE DEPTHS OF MY EMPATHY FOR
THE PAIN OF STRANGERS ENDANGERS
MY MENTAL HEALTH, WHICH
HAS BEEN STRAINING FOR YEARS TO
RESTRAIN, CONSTRAIN AND TAME SO MANY
FIRE-BREATHING DRAGONS AS TO ENVISION
MY INTELLIGENCE REPRESSING
VOLCANIC ERUPTIONS OF
EMOTIONAL LAVA, WHICH HAS BEEN CHOKING
MY PERSONAL WELL BEING—24/7—AS THOUGH
ONE OF tRUMP’s DIRTIEST SOCKS HAS BEEN
SHOVED DOWN MY THROAT SO DEEPLY THAT
I CAN’T BREATHE OR EAT TO SAVE
MY OWN LIFE—IN FACT
OVER THESE PAST TWO WEEKS, SPENT ON
THE COAST WITH MY KIDS—BIG AND SMALL
I’M SEVEN POUNDS DOWN—AS IF DENYING
MY RAGE OXYGEN AND NUTRITIOUS
SUSTENANCE MAKES SENSE—AS IF
STARVING MYSELF GANDHI STYLE, WILL
INFLUENCE OUR LAWMAKERS TO
CLEAN UP THEIR SWAMP AT LONG LAST—
AS YOU CAN SEE, TAKING MY AGGRESSION
OUT ON MYSELF IS NOT HEALTHY BY ANY
STRETCH OF IMAGINATION—RIGHT?  AND
SINCE, OTHER THAN VOTING, I CAN’T
SAVE THE WORLD FROM MEGALOMANIACS
LIKE tRUMP, MY INTUITIVE INTELLIGENCE
Is GUIDING THE CONSCIOUS
PORTION OF MY PROCESSOR TO CONTINUE TO
FEEL SELF INSPIRED TO WORK TOWARD SAVING
MY SPIRIT FROM FEELING SUCKED INTO
YESTERYEAR’S LITTLE HOUSE OF HORRORS WHERE
A SWEET LITTLE GIRL IS STILL COWERING IN
SUBCONSCIOUS NEED OF MY ADULT’S
PROTECTIVE HEART-SMART INTELLIGENCE TO
BE THE KIND OF PERSON WHO WOULD FREE MY
(and all of the children in CAGES!) FROM
EXPERIENCING SUBCONSCIOUS TORRENTIAL
DOWNPOURS OF SPIRITUALLY DEVASTATING TERRORS
LIKE THOSE THAT TRIGGER MY OWN EVERY TIME
I FEAR THAT ANOTHER CHILD, SEPARATED FROM
PARENTAL LOVE IS HEADED TOWARD
FUTURE EPISODES OF PTSD, AND
HAVING EXPRESSED TODAY’S DARKLY CLOUDY
THUNDEROUS FLASHES OF WHIPLASHING INSIGHT
I’M CLEARLY AND THOROUGHLY FURIOUS AT
PTSD’S ABILITY TO BLINDSIDE MY BRIGHT SIDE—
REPEATEDLY, JUST AS I’M FURIOUS THAT
MINDS, WHICH PROVE AS BLACK HEARTED AS
tRUMP’S, CONTINUE TO USURP CONTROL OVER
SO MUCH OF THE WELL-BEING OF
‘WE THE PEOPLE’ WHO POPULATE
EVERY CORNER OF THE WORLD

How ludicrous is it to believe that
My think tank is supposed to relax when
The dark side of my processor has misinformed
The conscious portion of my processor to
Imagine my exhausted host of inner strengths
Readying themselves to do battle with
A herd (?) of self conceived, flame throwing
Dragons that reside within my mind
If I am to fully recover from PTSD
Then my intelligence is charged to
Identify mixed messages given to myself
Exacerbating inner conflicts so confoundingS
To escalate repressed madness based in unresolved
Angst  rusting through my over stuffed and
Thus, ever cracking, defense system’s wall of
Denial, and if I’ve not clearly described
Mixed messaged madness driving me close to
Crazy then please feel free to offer up
Your definition by filing my blog’s
Comment box with experiences of your own

Today, we can more readily see how Aha!
Moments serve me well by hollowing out
And whittling my fire breathing dragons
(Conjured up by the imaginative nature of
My dark side) down to palm-in-hand
Toy size), eventually shine the INTUITIVE
Light of insight upon deeper truths, which, like
This one, has thankfully emerged from
My processor’s newly re-energizing
Bright side—Seriously!
My brain has not ever secreted
An enflamed dragon’s lair inside my head—in fact
The only permanent resident within
The dark side of my thought processor, since
The age of three, has been a terrified, deeply
Stressed, sexually abused little girl, whose
Self assertive voice, having been arrested in
The aftermath of her baby sister’s sudden death, rails
Against the bars of her subconscious cage, inner
Rage signaling my defense system to
Ring the bell of yesteryear’s terrorizing alarm whenever
The adult me (whose protection this deeply confounded
Ghost of a child, who haunts my well being whenever
A loved one’s emotional fire is in need of cooling down)
Demonstrates ‘telling’ signs of my host of inner strengths
Weakening, as would a set of muscles, from
(self abused) overuse ... And had I not reviewed
The train of thought, directly above, with you, today
My self conceived misconception of a dragon of
Any size, dwelling within my mind may have
Fired off yet another subconscious inner conflict, which
My tenaciously intuitive nature would have felt
Need to hunker my think tank down so as to puzzle
Its way through another darkly self-conceived
Mind maze down the road—however with
Today’s insight-laden, self strengthening
Sense of clarity brightening my current outlook
Concerning whatever mental or emotional challenge
Life is certain to offer up, if not today, then tomorrow—
Let’s look forward to the next reveal of
A train of thought (not in any specific order) which
Like this one,  my smoke-filled think tank conjured up
During these past two weeks when my state of oxygen
Deprived, extreme mental exhaustion had need to
Cocoon, suggestive of metamorphosis (hopefully)
Taking place as I stand, bravely, on the threshold of—
Old age ...