Here we go, Down Alice’s rabbit hole I drink the potion To make me sane That very same potion that drowns my pain This wound I have … It’s bleeding I’m hemorrhaging How can it heal? I haven’t stopped drowning … Continue reading Light It Up
Let’s talk about bound- duh- rees BAAaaabbbBBYYYY let’s talk about you and me… So, with that musical intro, let’s discuss boundaries. When we make a decision for setting boundaries, concise communication is quite important. As a sufferer of rapid cycling bipolar disorder, I have had my own set of issues marking those lines I cannot allow to be crossed in my life. Bear in mind we must remain steadfast in our resolve when those boundaries are crossed. If it’s crossed and we continue to allow the transgression to continue, our words which once held so much power, are simply empty … Continue reading Boundaries
I want to write you I want to write you into darkness Disappear into blackness I’d have you write your lyrics on your wrists To be sung about on the Styx I want you to disappear into oblivion No Heaven No Hell Simply you alone with your thoughts Always. Depression is a blackguard that will steal your joy. Depression, if anything, is the utter absence of hope. Imagine awaking each day, with no hope… that each day will blur the line into the next and only slumber separates you. If Continue reading Personification.
I was a fatherless daughter. When I was 2, my father died. It was not an “accident.” It was not old age. He died by suicide. Every year, Father’s Day cruelly mocked me. My relationships with men were cautionary tales. I was in a spiral. Self-harm, a teenage eating disorder, attempted suicide and depression were gaslighted to a degree in which I was convinced I was a moody teenager looking for attention. Barely surpassing legal drinking age, my life was in such disarray I gut-wrenchingly decided to place a son for adoption to give him his best shot. I still was not … Continue reading How My Father’s Suicide Forced Me To Acknowledge My Own Mental Illness
It starts like an itch & then my face is wet. It is not raining. The sky is clear, especially for this time of night. I am crying. Barely five minutes ago I was laughing. The depression drowns out the mania … Continue reading Mixed Nights.
I hear a commercial vaguely on the television, my son is playing in his room where I hear the occasional roar of a pretend dinosaur and there is a quiet jingle of a collar as my dogs run around. Inside my mind there is a constant stream of disconcerting thoughts I have no control over. I feel gut wrenching guilt, bottomless hopelessness and an abyss of emotions I have no actual words for. It is like I am underwater, my senses are dulled and I am not entirely sure how it is 8:00pm when it was only 3:30pm a … Continue reading Auto Pilot