The I’s have it
On Dirty Counters and Anxiety – How to lose your shit over dumb shit (with style)
I had a panic attack last night because the counters were dirty. There I was shaking, heart trying to climb out of my chest ala Alien, and my brain running away in storyland. Because the counters were dirty. Initially, because I’m human, I was pissed. Like, “this? This is the hill we’re dying on today?... Continue Reading →
Happy Depression Day!
Today is Mental Health Day. It would be swell if I got to deal with my mental health once a year. For me, and anyone else who struggles, every day is mental health day. Often “good” days can be tainted with a sense of wondering when the shit will hit the fan. The “bad” days... Continue Reading →
Depression and little black dresses
If you asked me, (no one did) the hardest part of depression is admitting to yourself that you’re depressed. Following the woman in a black dress analogy, she doesn’t announce herself. She doesn’t even make herself at home. She silently climbs on your back and begins whispering in your ear. Her whispers become the painted... Continue Reading →
37
I’m 37 tomorrow. Last night, I realized that 3+7=10=1 in numerology. 36 is 3+6=9. Aside from the ability to do basic math, (I’m a big kid now) in astrology, 9 is about endings, and 1 is about beginning. New cycle. New start. In the tarot, 1 is the magician card - the master of the... Continue Reading →
Sterilize
Sterilize Sterile smiles, virile lies I’m getting better, my soul has died It is an illness It is insane It is my heaven It is my grave They say it’s catching Like I’m a cough They say I’m crazy I say, so what? Starry eyes, eerie cries Into the heavens I have soared I’ve danced... Continue Reading →
The Joy of Unbecoming
When we were born We were born to die The wailing of our first breath Implies the weeping of the last Then we start becoming We must become someone Someone becomes a daughter Someone becomes a son Someone became something That something is a mask The mask becomes the mission Mis’ry becomes like... Continue Reading →
Touched by Fire
I’ve been reading Touched by Fire. It’s a study on mood disorders - particularly bipolar - and artists. It’s so fascinating but also eating me up a bit. Reading the facts about Poe, Van Gogh, Woolfe, Tenneyson, Lord Byron...on and on...it’s cathartic to feel not alone and certainly in good company, and depressing to read... Continue Reading →
