Not sure why this is in drafts.  It looks like I was going to keep going but I will publish this as it is for now.  I may edit it later.



There are no bars at the windows

The door is locked but I hold the key

I have transport, it sits idle in the drive

I remain inside the boundary of my land


My social circle is very small

It diminishes more each day

As I choose to remain inside

The barriers erected by my mind


The physical trap is set and active

My body strength wasting away

Membership to the gym lies dormant

 I passively observe the worsening decline


It isn’t just my body, that makes me linger inside

Its weight compounds my stress, ugliness to mine eye

The real problem, my mind’s tortured thinking

Leading me to hide, not just myself but also my reality


While it is true that other people have betrayed me

Initiating my self isolation, to choose the hermit life

Those people do not suffer, my justice is not served

It is my trust that lies in tatters by what they caused


I am longer at ease in the company of others nor able to fake it

I prefer to be with animals or a chosen few close to me

I have forgotten all the previously familiar social cues

Being able to easily converse, mingle and entertain


I wasn’t always like this, despite being naturally shy

It was just well hidden under a persona of self assurance

I had a life outside of home and a career that I was proud of

I am rarely seen within the world, in any context


My confidence has declined over time and with many blows

My ability to mask the consequences equally diminished

My life reduced to faking normality and acceptance, if I bother

This fate that I never saw for myself, when dreaming as a child


I want to batter the bars, smash the locks within my mind

I want to be the one that strides confidently forward

Not slowed by the grasp of the past, entangling my ankles

The freedom to be truly free and even more to find me

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  1. I was especially touched by the part about how this is not the life you dreamed for yourself as a child (to paraphrase). I remember discussing with my Mum how she saw that her childhood (of bliss) didn’t result in a good life with my Dad. And then real happiness was snatched away when my Step Dad died suddenly. And then the cancer that ultimately stole my Mum. Life it seems is lived in cycles. No one wants to be living on the unhappy side. But we have to somehow endure those times. We, and you know this, are endurers (I think I made a new word!). We endure. We are enduring women. We will endure because it’s in our DNA.

    Liked by 1 person

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