The Chemical Chronicles: Mania Wanted.
“I am so screwed,” I thought as I sat on the edge of my bed crying. It was almost 2 a.m. and Sam had just broken up with me. “I don’t want to break up with you. I feel like I’m not going to,” he said. Fast forward ten minutes and he was taking it back, telling me he needed to let me go. Despite all other things I could think, bipolar disorder was number one on the brain. “I’m either waking up in...
The Chemical Chronicles: Kill Pills.
After two panic attacks, a night in an ER and reaction of “sucks for you” from my first shrink, a new pill and doctor were in order. I had no idea where to begin. There is no shrink directory to turn to, no compilation of personalities or styles, only a Google bar blinking at me with a dumbfounded look. “Austin psychiatrists,” I type. Names upon names meaning nothing appear. I scroll...
The Chemical Chronicles: Mania Written.
We interrupt your normal scheduling to bring you a manic episode. ——- “Sammy. Sammy. Sammy!” I’m shaking my boyfriend awake. “I’m gonna go home. I’ll be back.” “Okay,” he grumbles, half asleep. “I love you.” “I love you too.” Love is why I leave. I’ve woken up in a state of mania and if he so much as turns over the wrong way I am going to unscrew his head, mount it on a spike...
I write to be honest. With myself, with the world. So where the fuck has that gone lately? It’s lost in this cluster fuck of a year I’d like to call “moving to Austin and clawing tooth and nail every fucking second to get it right.” It’s buried into a hole of insecurity that’s been dug around each misstep I’ve made. It’s hidden itself in the...
In That Space.
Between racing lines and jumbled letters are images of you. They don’t belong and never did, but failure to understand this truth leaves them as frozen images in a winter past. A consonant here, a verb there, all dressed in visions of you in manipulative best. They blur together as I lay between dark ceilings and dreaming - a place anything is possible. There my...