Parables about Puppies, Casserole Dishes, and Cleanliness

I keep my room clean these days because it feels like the only thing I can control. Everything else, however, is a mess. Life, a mess. My heart, a mess. Relationships, a mess. My hair, a mess.   I’ve micromanaged everything that I can possibly micromanage in my bedroom. I rearrange the books on my…

The Little Things

Today was a painful one… it met me with a shit-ton of questions that only became more and more confusing and a lot more hatred for my brain that’s always trying to sabotage me. All day has been that feeling where your heart sinks into your stomach and you don’t know if you should throw…

Chronicles of a Recovering Leper

So it has been one helluva tough week for me.   I don’t even know how to adequately express myself without giving you an insanely long recap of the secrecies of my life and the hidden parts of my heart, but hey, you already have been faithful to reading about my struggle with bipolar disorder,…

When Stories Become Memories

“I was sexually abused when I was seven by my step-sister…”   I’ve told this trauma narrative over and over again at various tellings of my testimony. Naturally, it’s always become hidden during times of telling family friends or anyone who may tell my parents because that is the worst possible thing that could happen……

The Beginning

Originally posted on Behind These Hazel Eyes:
“I don’t really believe in mental illness,” I said.  This is always a great way to start off a conversation with psychiatrists.  You can almost see the smoke come off of their pencils as they try to write fast enough about how crazy you are.  I wasn’t joking, though.…

Painting Bipolar Disorder

Originally posted on Behind These Hazel Eyes:
“Try painting what a bipolar diagnosis feels like,” my therapist told me. “It doesn’t work like that,” I explained.  “I paint, but I paint things.  Like, you know, pheasants or whatever.” “Um, pheasants?”  Her pencil hovered over the notepad. “Yeah, I painted a pheasant a while back because my…

An Invisible Battle

If you are sensitive to or offended by cussing, please… do me a huge favor, and close out of this blog.   I don’t really know how to even begin this post. I’m feeling a lot. More than I have felt in a while. I’ve been doing so fucking well. Ya know?   Like what’s…

rhinopharyngitis (rhi-no-phar-yn-gi-tis)

Rhinopharyngitis. Rhino-Pharyngitis.   I imagine a rhino with laryngitis. Or a disease caused by spending too much time around rhinos. Or maybe a street name for a guy who sells drugs… “His name is Rhino-Pharyngitis, but he goes by Rhino for short. He sells the best stuff.”   Well, I’ve had rhinopharyngitis this past week….

The Gift of Tears

I’m in a new season. And I don’t mean like a Tennessee kind of season, where you have no idea if it’s Winter or Summer. It’s clearly a new season.   It’s a season that has greeted me with the gift of tears.   Everything I find security in is about to be gone. Wow….

To the Guy who Sexually Abused Me

**I’ve thought about what to title this post for a while now, and although what I’ve chosen is a little blunt and may make any reader uncomfortable, you have no questions as to what this post is going to be about… but if I’m being honest, this post isn’t intended to be for any of…

Cold Coffee and Bad Jokes

Today I’m sitting in a coffee shop drawing weird shit in my notebook and listening to music without words.   It’s nothing unusual.   But as I’ve been focusing on these things, I’ve intermittently forgotten about the reason why I actually ended up in this coffee shop… for the coffee. More than anyone else on…