In the daytime, my thoughts are slow and sticky, like molasses dripping from a spoon. I cannot say what I mean to, even inside my head. I reach for words, try to pluck them from the sky, but they slip … Continue reading Nighttime is for Racing Thoughts
I saw myself wake up in a hospital room, worried faces peering down at me. Briskly pushing aside the plastic turquoise curtain, a nurse drew blood and took my vitals. Outside it was sunny, but inside everything was dull. Looking down I noticed that my arms were bandaged from wrist to elbow.
Was I happy to be alive? By now, the suicidal thoughts had subsided, but the pain lingered inside my mind. I would have a lot of explaining to do: about what I had done, about myself, and my disease. Except this time, things were different. I had crossed a line, and there was no turning back.
You were waiting outside, and you would never say it but we both knew what this was: a Game Changer. Continue reading “Game Changer”
During my time at the first college I attended, I was forced to leave for a year, because, essentially, I was too depressed. They wanted me off campus, as fast as possible. And they made it very hard to come back. From … Continue reading An Unspoken Ban on Mental Illness
It has been ten years since your first dose of an anti-depressant made you curl up and fall asleep on the floor of an elevator. Ten years since months of deep depression drove you into the hospital, where you were … Continue reading A Decade of Mental Illness
As a follow-up to yesterday’s post, this is a look at my experience being hospitalized, from a different perspective: Consider me lucky Because I was protected By a woman who was just doing her job And didn’t really seem to … Continue reading Consider Me Lucky