birthday wishes

When you somehow manage to write things that you aren't really ready to say...

I cried so hard writing this that it's a wonder I didn't short out my tablet. That's like, cathartic, or something, right? I don't know, it just made my head stuff up and my face hurt.  But, I'm pretending really hard, I am, that I still somehow, somewhere have the capacity for hope.  And that maybe someday it'll be something other than just a trigger. So, somebody remind me to update this next year, okay?

•block•

 

The writer is blocked. The writer decides to write about being blocked. The writer's brain does not enjoy having it's hand forced and retaliates. Where do we go from here?

(Honest to gods, I'm fine.  I'm just having a strange week.  Can I blame the continuing proximity to xmas?  I'm going to, regardless of how you answer, FYI.)

*~mystery~*

 A short piece written during a live flash prompt: 10 words (know, the, amontillado, echo, lightning, confusion, mystery*, skin, chamber, which) from Edgar Allen Poe.  I think I might expand on it one at some point..

*aaaand I just realized that when I switched a line at the last minute, I screwed up and deleted one vital word.  Where did it go? Truly it is a MYSTERY🙄😒

christmas tree lights

 

I'm not saying  that all this holiday cheer has made me lose my mind. 

But I'm also not not saying that.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

•merry and bright and hungry•

So, funny story...when my dad died several years back, I was sick as hell. Worst case of flu I had ever had. I couldn't cry. Because if I even got the least little bit teary, I literally couldn't breathe. And with my family, well, gallows humor is definitely not off the table. Were we at one point sitting in the car in the funeral home parking lot cracking jokes about necromancy?  Maybe. And if that did happen has it become a kinda fucked up running Zombie Dad narrative in the years since? Yeah, seems reasonable.

Merry Xmas & Season's Eatings Y'all 😉😈😏

click for bonus spoken word version

 

fear of heights

There's probably a pretty telling metaphor somewhere in here 🤷

 

•pick your poison•

pick my poison?

today it's nicotine and conversation

one for the nerves and one for the soul

both are medicinal, in the oddest ways

gateways and crutches

one harms and helps,

one hurts and heals

•solstice, sorta•

 

lies in the headspace

 I don't recommend reading this.  I'm not being facetious.  It's under two slides of trigger warnings for a reason.  I don't really think this should exist, and the likelihood that I'm going to delete it is pretty damn good.

Update: Well. When I wrote this piece, I initially psyched myself to post, and ran away. I fully expected that I'd come back in a few hours and indeed delete out of pure angst and self-consciousness. I did not expect to have it resonate with so many people. And I most definitely did not expect for it to facilitate a few very real and much needed conversations. Thank you, every single one of you that even read this piece. It means more than I can say ❤ And no, I am not deleting. 

•festive•

 

giving in to compulsion

 

I spent a lot of the day yesterday thinking that I probably ought to just stop posting, stop writing, just stop, until at least after the holidays. This isolated existence and the chaos in my brain don't mesh well with how December makes me feel.  ....I don't know how to end this comment, caption, thing, because I'm incredibly conflicted and writing this piece definitely did not help. Good idea, bad idea, no ideas, idk.

The answer to the question is no.

 

(Un)comfortably numb

 

First of all, at this point, my entire page is probably a trigger warning.  But.  In case you hadn't noticed that... I write a lot about mental illness, mine, specifically. My current diagnosis is dysthymia (a lovely word, meaning I am not crazy when say that I don't ever remember not being depressed), with a heaping side of generalized anxiety, and a smattering of ptsd. To say that I am not enjoying myself, is a pretty severe understatement. So anyway, y'know, beware? Herein lie monsters? Run away while you can?

I wanna say "inspired by", but I think maybe "confronted into being" would be a tad more accurate. In any case, this was written because I both very much did and absolutely did not want to write for the prompt "comfortably numb" from @antipoetic.revolution & @marierosepoetry

struggle (starve)

What can I say? I'm in a mood.