No words

I haven’t written anything, in a very long time. I don’t have any words. They don’t flow easily from my mind, seamlessly to the page, as they once did. Likely, that is for the best.

Things I know to be true…this is a difficult time of year for me. Depression robs you of anything even remotely good in your life. Depression lies, but its lies are so consuming that they feel true. I’m tired. Not tired in the way that a good night’s sleep can magically fix, but tired in the way that simply existing seems too difficult.

I had a good run. 2 years of full time school, followed by nearly 3 years of full time work. But I am so very broken. Burnt out, just a shell. I cannot fathom work, and so I am taking a leave of absence for 2 weeks. I don’t think I can keep up the full time position. I really don’t. I don’t know if there is a part time option. I haven’t broached the subject, yet, with my boss. I don’t feel hopeful. But perhaps.

I am waiting, precariously, on a referral to a new psychiatrist. Maybe that will help. Maybe it won’t. I don’t know at this point, if I can be “fixed” this time. Again, I don’t feel hopeful.

People are getting festive. It’s that time of year. Christmas reminds me of family, love, friendship, kindness. I am trying to be positive. Trying to get on board this feeling of joy that sometimes permeates the very air at this time of year. I don’t seem to be succeeding very well. I feel broken, disjointed. Unable to see the love and light. I am not brave. I am not strong. I am tired.

Keep breathing, look to tomorrow…this too shall pass.


Life is Good; Life is Grand

I come back to this place of safety to spill my words into the abyss. Forever and always the same. Depression…yes. A touch of mania? Why not. I am so tired of this intricate dance. Don’t step that toe out of line, stumble, trip…hang onto that tightrope, your life hangs in the balance.

I am so lucky. I have a very good support system in place. Professionals, friends, family. I am loved, by many. I am loved. I know this. I am grateful. I repeat these words over and over again. “I am loved. I am okay. This is enough. I am grateful.”

We talk. Speak in gentle waves. Don’t rock the boat. “This will not last forever. There will be calm. The storm doesn’t go on and on, eventually there are clear skies at the other end.” And if you are talking about episodes, then yes, you are correct. They DON’T last forever; instead are waves which ebb and flow, waxing and waning like the bright moon which fills the sky and is a beacon of light even on the darkest nights. They pass, if you can just ride each wave as it buffets you, trying desperately not to drown.

And this is what I hold onto. There will be peace. It will come, in time. The waves will subside, and leave behind….calm.

Except. Except it does not. Because after one episode, there is another to quickly fill it’s place. This will always be the case. This is a lifelong battle, this battle for sanity. How long can you hold onto a tiny vessel as it falls apart at the seams and leaves you battered and bruised in the midst of a hurricane? I am tired.

It comes to me even in my sleep, this metaphor. I dream of drowning. It is not terrifying as one would expect. I do not wake, tangled in sheets and blankets, sweaty from thrashing to reach the surface. Instead, I watch the waves close over my head, look up through the blue green haze, and feel the air leave my lungs. The pressure in my chest is intense, and the water floods my mouth as I instinctively search for air. I do not fight. I am tired. And so I close my eyes against the haze, the pain, and everything goes black.

I am tired. I dream of drowning, and for a moment, that moment between sleep and wake, there is simply nothing. No hurt, no pain, no exhaustion. Just a sweet nothing.


I feel alone. Lonely. Stuck inside my own head, because it is too scary to let into the open all the demons that live inside it. I have learned it is important to talk to someone when you are feeling this way. But I feel stuck. When I try to talk about it, it’s like my throat closes up. In a chat with someone, I breezily talk about anything else…surface talk, I talk around the issues. A physical mental barrier. The dam that won’t let the floodwaters flow.

I can’t think of anyone I can be completely open with, except maybe one person, and he is hundreds of kilometres away, on another continent, fast asleep.

I log into facebook…surely there is SOMEONE I can talk to, but no. Why? Because they will look down on me? Because it makes me feel weak? Because I am ashamed? Because I can’t register with all of those people that I am not always the happy go lucky person that they see? Because I don’t know how to say…help. Please help me. I feel lost, and alone. I feel weak. I feel ashamed, you may look down on me…but please,,,please can you help me?

Live, Dream, Soar

It’s been so long since I touched my fingers to the keys and let the words tumble out onto a blank screen. I had forgotten just how much I love words. Piecing them together to create something eloquent and beautifully stunning. Words have power, they do. Immense power…to help, to heal, to wound, to destroy. I have blamed the medication in the past for robbing me of the desire to create, to sketch, to write. It is true, that without the touch of madness, it doesn’t come quite as easily, as readily as it once did. But it isn’t entirely fair to say that I have been robbed of this magnificent gift, because those words are still there; inside my mind in a swirling haze, waiting to be set free. And it is time now to do just that.

I have decided I might like to publish a book, though I don’t know entirely how to go about doing that. But I can envision the book in my mind, and that’s the first step to making it into a reality.


Step 1: Live

Step 2: Dream

Step 3: Soar

I am well on my way to living. I’ve got the dreaming down pat. So that just leaves soaring, which needs a little preparation. I have to be ready before I take the plunge out of that nest. So what does that entail? Research. Compilation. Submission. A little bit of hope, luck, and determination. This is something that I want, and I know that I can do this.

Let the journey begin.



When the tears threaten to come, I close my eyes against them, barring their existence. Still they seep through closed lids, trickle in rivulets, torrents. I feel as though I am frozen in time, a stone statue, hard and impenetrable. But the tears threaten my very existence, carving weathered lines into hardened features.

It is over; it is done.

And the darkness which fills my soul, swirling haze, is merely fleeting. For yet again, the surge of energy, the surge of power; a flock of birds taking flight, flames leaping at my spirit. It takes control, and laughter bubbles from deep inside. I want to run, soar, shout my joy into an unending sky. Build masterpieces. World shattering, life altering creations. They are just waiting to be unleashed from my fingertips.

I yearn for solace. I yearn for quiet. Seek balance and shelter from the emotional storms which wreak havoc on my mind and soul.


Tell me stories

The end of an era. A new life. New beginnings. Dreams, beliefs, desires. All of these words to describe who I am, where I am, now in this exact moment in time.

So much has come to pass, and it is funny how life meanders along, you barely noticing, until suddenly, you find yourself at the edge of a cliff, your toes hanging over the edge, teetering above the abyss. When you are faced with a tragedy, a sorrow, a great and powerful joy, conflict, life altering decisions.

I finished college. Two years of my life flew past in a moment; in the blink of an eye. Some days stretched on and on, turned into weeks that seemed unending. There was much turmoil, despair punctuated by intense joy, laughter, friendships. It was the longest two years of my life, and at the same time, flew by like the wind. I am grateful for every moment of it. I am grateful.

I am finding myself paralyzed by anxiety. Tiny flames of fear flicker, until I am all consumed. I am afraid of the future. Faced with choices; so many choices, all of which will take my life in a different direction. I don’t know where to begin. Afraid to take the first step, I am frozen in space, unsure what is “the right choice”, knowing that there is no right or wrong choice, just simply a choice to make.

Where to begin, what to do, where to go? How do I find balance? Questions linger.

It is a new era.


Dear Mom

What a surprise I had this week when I came home to a call from the nursing home. It would seem that you left a Christmas present for Logan and I with your friend there for safe keeping until Christmas and asked her to make sure we got them. At first I didn’t know how to process it…it made me sad to think that you had known you wouldn’t be around for Christmas. But you were always thinking ahead, always planning. You’ll be with us this Christmas. We love you.