The Journal

I wrote in my journal today. It was the first time in over a year since I had written anything. Coming out of depression is scary and amazing. Change is scary and amazing. Living is scary and amazing.

As I sat outside around the corner from my apartment writing outside the coffee shop,  the sun warmed my skin in the cool air. It has been so long since I last wrote. I had so much to put down.  Over 7 pages of the highs and lows of an entire year plus growing plans for this year flowed out. I doodle and ponder while listening to music as I write.  It is therapy. One thing I have learned in my life is that you cannot hold everything inside. It will eat you alive. I have so much to do in a short time. Keeping anxiety at bay is a challenge but I am managing. Moving is stressful enough. Not having a job or a place to live is like walking a fine line next to a minefield. But I am going to make it. I am a very determined woman. I can do anything and mostly in my life, I have. When I set my mind to something it get’s done.

Next for me is jumpstarting my new old career in the arts and music. I wrote in my journal.

“I started off my adult life as an artist. A true tortured soul of an artist. I gave it up for 20 years to do what?”

What?… to learn I should have never given it up to make a lot of money. In the end I did make a lot of money, but it is all gone and it did not make me happy in the long run. It is time to change that. It is time to live for me for a change. I am going to do the things that make me happy. For that provides riches far greater than money. Dreams do come true for me. I make them happen. Maybe not all of them but I don’t give up easy on anything, even my endless pursuit of living a good life,  self love and just being happy.  I will succeed. I always do.


Build my life upon these dreams
Comforts and cozies fill my thoughts
Returning to a place familiar and warm
Memories of achievement and joy
Love, yes love felt and expressed

The lie roles off my tongue like marbles on hill
Expressed yes, but not love
Comforts are facades hiding what lies behind
Dreams are more easily dashed than delivered
My achievement is this empty shell

Medicated my heart beats at a safer pace
Medicated the knife never draws blood
Medicated sleep without dreaming is peace
Medicated darkness is not so cold
Medicated is no life to be wished on anyone

Suicidal thoughts, Can anything be more frightening
How do you take a life without the mess
How do you take a life without hurting everyone you love
You cannot
I will not

Survival is a skill perfected by years of practice
Battles lost and won in my mind
The physical toll evidence in the lines on my face
The blanks stares, the tears and distant presence
The unseen damaged liver and once failed kidneys

Everything hurts some days, everything
The deepest pain is beyond human touch
Why do I keep fighting against this unwelcoming tied
I just do, a promise to myself and my loves
The hardest part of fighting the emptiness…

There is nothing there to take a swing at

Keep Pushing


I think I am getting ready to become unhinged
Sour notes struck across ill-tuned strings
This wound stuck deep
Enough to fester
Not enough to kill
Slowly bleeding out caustic anxiety
No words for they sting caustic on my flesh
Touch me and launch a thousand evils out of hell
Condescending your lack of faith
Do you see my gaze
It burns your effigy
Do you feel my tongue
Striking out a cord of razor and barb
This corner you’ve backed me in to
This dark place of directions set in flight
Walls made to contain a raging furnace
A crumbling foundation set to topple
How much longer
How much further
Push me off this ledge
Our fate rests in careless ways

Eyes of the World

Today the eyes of the world are upon her. The cold stair of a billion people following her every move. Watching suspiciously and with conviction in their eyes. She is 8 feet tall today and the sign over my head is an unavoidable beacon drawing everyone closer.

The circus freak goes on stage and in the darkness that surrounds her only silence. The deafening silence rips at her ears as the white ring of light probing her from all directions strips her bare. Naked and alone all she feels is fear. Her self-consciousness swells under the skin like a thousand boils of her disease. No escaping the intense gaze from the corner of her eye… either direction the same.

The darkest layers of her clothing can no longer hide the seething pain of vulnerability. Her fingers shake and clutch at her arms crossed over naked breasts. The transparency of her flesh and bones offer not protection from all the unbroken stairs. Each piercing her flesh with divine accuracy. The criss-crossed gazes dissect her every breath. Paralyzed in a pool of fear only the beat of her heart bursting from her chest offers any hint of life within.

Flight of this motionless statue made impossible by the roots of doubt pulling her limbs deeper into the earth beneath her. She can do nothing but fear. Her chest longs to cry out. Heaving only shallow breaths of a dying flower at the center of the universe. If only she could break free. If only the arms of comfort had not abandoned her soul.