The girl in the brown pajamas

They take your phone away, lock it up with the rest of your belongings. You can't have them in the Psych ward. But they do have ginger ale and water; graham crackers and ice cream; visiting hours and showers. They also have a tv. But there's only so many times you can watch Chopped before you go crazy. The boredom is enough to make anybody go crazy. "...suicidal" it read on my admission form,...

I challenged her to write a post in which she doesn’t mention her past (stolen from my old blog)

I forgave myself today, kneeling at the altar. You can't move forward if you're angry at the past-- angry at yourself for things that are not your fault, for relapses you could've controlled if you had just. . . just . . . re  a   c  h  e   d   out, for relationships you purposefully sabotaged because you don't feel worth anything. Maybe forgiveness can't change the past, but maybe it...

Letter to a suicide note

I found you tonight, tucked away amongst books I haven't read in years but love too much to throw away. I'm getting ready to move, packing books in suitcases and clothes in boxes because I can't stay here forever. I can't stay here forever: trapped in the past--but I can't move forward until I move out, can't live until I leave the place where I tried to die. I found you tonight, and I'm not sure...

How trauma helped me find my words

The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence.- Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar Growing up, I was always told to use my words, but every time I opened my mouth, I was afraid the earth was going to swallow me whole. I was afraid of people telling me no--no, they didn't want to play with me; no, they didn't want to be my friend. No became the worse word somebody...

New Beginnings Amidst the Search for Perfection

Prozac and faith--What do they have in common? They both keep me going. I was struggling to come up with the perfect first blog post for this new site, but then I realized that this is not what this site is about. It's not about perfection or having it all together; it's about the real, the raw, the messiness, and through it all, still searching for peace. I had a blog before; maybe we were a...