Does anyone driving notice the woman stretching, back-arching, visible from the freeway? These are the things my eyes are always scanning for: a daytime crescent moon, a couple in a hotel window, a mockingbird nest in a bougainvillea.
Read More
Being put to sleep is loss of control. The moment your body becomes a body. The doctor assures me I will not want to be awake.
Read More
You’re not going to believe this next part: Being sensitive doesn’t mean you
get to turn my crisis into a heavy chain you beat yourself with. So greedy
for damage you claim mine and then blame me for the bruises.
When I hear someone talk about “the silver linings of cancer,” I am so immediately turned off by the framing that it’s made me wonder if I’m just disinterested…
Read More
“Is it time to talk about stopping?”
She is watching you quietly, waiting for your answer.
Her question is a betrayal. She is supposed to be midwifing you safely to the other end, not making you worry that the pain might destroy you.
Read More
I am a painter who uses watercolor to personify my struggles and journey of my mental health. I started using paint as a form of journaling because I missed having a creative outlet to voice my inner turmoil…
Read More