It’s amazing how when the walls start to close in, and everything comes crashing down all it takes is that one reassurance. That one person to tell you, instead of the usual self reminding mottos, that you are loved. You are not alone. You will never be alone. You will never be unloved. All it takes is the hug. The kiss on the hand. The silly dances. That reminder that everything is ok. It really will all work out despite recent thoughts and feelings.
She gets her happy ending.


She lays awake at night, alone with her thoughts. The cat’s company is a nice reminder she’s not quite alone tonight in this big bed, but then again he’s a self-serving being just looking for some attention. Her true company isn’t here. Or rather, her wishful company. Love of her life, mate to her soul, boyfriend. The only person able to save her from this loud silence isn’t here, he can’t be here. Not yet. Not at this point in time. Maybe eventually, in the years to come they’ll share a place, a bed. But not now. Now she’s slowly consumed in the dark with the sadness and the fear. The medicine won’t help. This she has to fight alone. Sadness is sadness. Fear is fear. At least she can name them, that’s half the battle isn’t it?

Spawn. Offspring. Kids.

It’s a nice idea, to one day create life with someone you love. It spurs feelings of warm fuzziness to think you might one day shape a life, fill it with all your best ideas, habits, thoughts. Ways to live. It sparks heart pulling emotions to think of having that kind of connection with another person to make it all happen. Well, two other people really. You get to think of a name, the kind of environment they’ll grow up in, all the toys and things you could get for them. But really, you’re not supposed to think of all of that alone. There isn’t really any joy in keeping it to yourself instead of sharing it with someone; planning with someone. In fact, it’s downright depressing to think of the fact that you’re the only one thinking about it.
Maybe it’s all just too much thinking. Maybe instead of thinking, you should just kind of go with whatever happens, wherever life leads you. Don’t plan, because you’ll be planning alone. In your own head. And really, it is quite sad.

Magic can’t fix this

If you’re sad, then you’re sad. There is no medication. There is no magic pill. You’re just sad.

Second-guessing Sanity

I’m second-guessing my sanity. The little blue pills, they help keep me calm, rational. But every once in a while I’ll say something, or do something, just a little too out there. Or a little too unorthodox. Or a little too out of the ordinary. And then stop myself, almost always too late, and wonder. Apologize. Ask for it to be forgotten. Try my best to keep the inner hysteria from rising. I don’t need anyone seeing the hysteria. Just me. Only me. My eyes only. There are so many techniques to soothe: breathe, vocalize positive comments, keep telling yourself not to do it until you’re mentally forced to stop. In, out. In, out. I am bright. I am loved. I am not alone. No more crying. No more crying. No more crying. No more crying. It worked! This time. For now. The magic medicine is supposed to stop these things. Prevent the paranoia. Kill the crazy with fire. Kill it with fire. But I suppose nothing is perfect. Nothing lasts forever. Plan of action now? Keep it up. Seems to have worked this time. So far, so good. Or ok. Or so-so.


My whole life I’ve heard
I need to learn how to take a joke.
I need to lighten up.
You were just kidding.
Well I try.
I really do.
I mean after all,
All I ask for is a little attention and a latte.


Kids always want to win games. When they win they’re ecstatic and shove it in your face. When they lose they cry and get violently upset. Hah. How do you deal with it?