A Multiple’s Superpower — NOTE: I am back in a limited capacity. Hello! Writing through the bad is good. I think i’m finally in a place with my current bipolar mania where that’s possible. I guess we’ll see. It struck me as maybe an important and helpful thing i could do. I think i’m…

Hello People of <insert social media site name here>: I am extremely ill. A few months ago i became manic, and it has developed into the most severe mania i’ve had in over 10yrs. I cannot socmed because it triggers extreme anxiety. I cannot maintain my blog or Medium writing…

Building my way out of trauma — This morning while writing i came to understand more of why i sometimes feel so desperately alone, even though i’ve found acceptance, understanding, and approval in my life. It’s due in part to my struggle to be myself. It’s taken therapy, a sense of safety, and a long time to…

I write about navigating life with a weird brain. — Hello, and welcome to my crazy life. I spent the better part of 40 years just trying to survive, and around 15 trying to figure out how to do more than that. Here I am in my fifties, just now ready to put all my hard work to the test…

Poetry — The first word I learned was No but I couldn’t speak it It stayed inside and kept company with Please & Stop Anger Knocking on my door but I couldn’t answer Too busy with pain & sadness Cold & keening Rushing through my legs to run to the front door Knocking Come out and play with me Let’s run…

Poetry — Some days I feel warm and expansive and guileless I see the light underneath the closed door But there are days when everyone’s ugly, and everything smells bad And the door leaks a shadow that runs out like blood. Most days, it’s both, as it is today while I bash…

Poetry — The loose-stringed bass The surfing guitar The wind-up monkey drums all remind me of who I am Large and enraged Huge Bashing my lips together like cymbals Words racing out of my mouth Crashing into everyone Drunk on pain Shivering Hands curled into fists save one pointing finger Take a good long look at…

poem from a girl — The sweetness that comes with the remembrance of youth was never mine Instead a tree overladen with bitter fruit bowed to the ground and scattered about with rotten flesh To taste of it is to be spirited away to Nowhere, Neverwhere My body flows through with its potent poison numb and…

Poem From a Woman — Sittin’ in my jammie-jams because hey at least i got up and that is a thing As i gather myself for whatever i can put into the day sitting on the red couch that i always wanted -who knew it’d only cost me fifty bucks?- …