A Moment: In The Throes Of Body Dysmorphia
I feel like there are spiders under my skin. Every piece of fabric simply feels wrong somehow. A glance at the mirror reflects back the mania in my eyes and I know. I know this
What’s On My Plate: My F*cked Up Relationship With Food
I stare at the food on my plate. I mentally count the calories. I calculate the carbs. I push my food around to make it look like I’ve eaten more than I have. I look
Girl, Wash Your Phone
Everywhere we look, we’re being told to wash our hands. Use hand sanitizer. Don’t touch your face with dirty hands. Practice social distancing. Clean your house. Wash your bedding. I’ve seen all of these tips
Why I’m Letting Go of the ‘Shame Spiral’ I Experience With Chronic Illness
We’ve all experienced shame before. It usually happens when we do what we view to be wrong instead of what we know to be right. However, what do we do when our shame is caused
A Note On War
We ordered the drone strike that killed Qassem Soleimani. Taking out the political reasons for the strike, at its base it’s an assassination of a dangerous Iranian general. Ok… so I want to rewind to
When My Bipolar Rage Makes Me Feel Like the Hulk
I got angry today. Internally, you may go, “And? Everyone gets angry.” To that I’d ask if you’d ever seen The Hulk. This anger is no ordinary feat. It’s bipolar rage. For many years, my
Perfect
10 September, 2019
Rants of a Virgo
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Anxiety Disorder
Depression
Mental Health
poetry
Random
7:38 am
I wanted to be the perfect person I wanted to be the perfect mother I wanted to be the perfect sister I wanted to be the perfect friend I wanted to be the perfect author
Light It Up
4 June, 2019
Rants of a Virgo
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anxiety
Anxiety Disorder
Bipolar Disorder
Depression
Mental Health
Random
Suicide Prevention
7:11 pm
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
Fireflies
Honeysuckle was blooming. The sweet perfume hanging in the air, as we sat on our porch on one of our slow, Southern nights. It was May, but Spring had bypassed and we felt the heaviness
Feeling Like A Fraud
There I was, listening to a distraught friend. She cried into the phone. I felt myself giving her suggestions for assistance and relieved at having a direction to turn to, she thanked me and we