All Writing & Art, Published Work, The Mighty

But You Were Fine Yesterday {The Mighty}

...There’s so many times when I get a remark or a look or a suggestion of “but you seemed fine yesterday.” These suggestions make my blood boil, because perhaps I had a mask on yesterday, or perhaps I didn’t and today I just feel like shit. Mental illness (unfortunately) doesn’t work quite so neatly and… Continue reading But You Were Fine Yesterday {The Mighty}

All Writing & Art, Published Work, The Mighty

What Complex Trauma Feels Like To Me {The Mighty}

Complex post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and complex trauma are just that — complex. In fact, I believe all mental health and trauma are. It’s all so complex. Some days it looks like managing triggers — finding a way to keep grounded. And managing it all can feel overwhelming and painful, and still, somehow, I am… Continue reading What Complex Trauma Feels Like To Me {The Mighty}

All Writing & Art, Published Work, The Mighty

A love letter to anyone who struggled to shower today {The Mighty}

This is a love letter to all those for whom showering is repeatedly a laborious exercise, physically, emotionally or both.7 To those who spend days putting it off because you know just how exhausting or painful it feels, right down to your bones, just to stand under the water for that long. Those who do… Continue reading A love letter to anyone who struggled to shower today {The Mighty}

All Writing & Art, Articles / Longer Pieces

50 of the thousands of lessons my 20s taught me

While some of these lessons have lodged somewhere deep inside, many of them I have learned and unlearned and relearned again and will continue learning for the rest of my life. So with five days until I turn 30, here are just 50 of the thousands of lessons my 20s have taught me, with heartfelt thanks to every person who has helped teach me over the last ten years, and lifetime, whether you knew you were helping or not.

All Writing & Art, Poetry. Prose. Letters.

Who am I?

Who am I? I'm someone who feels deeply, who in any given moment feels and holds multiple conflicting, contrasting, complimentary and complex emotions, sensations, experiences, all at once and separately in individual layers, together and apart. I'm someone who believes that we, all of us, as unique and connected and complex human beings, have an… Continue reading Who am I?

All Writing & Art, Poetry. Prose. Letters.

other days

Some days I can't find the words to tell you all the ways I am barely breathing. Some days I don't have words to explain the panic attack that forced me to remain indoors and to shut out the world for it was the only option I had to regain my breath and remember how… Continue reading other days

All Writing & Art, Poetry. Prose. Letters.

the anxiety that holds

i'm wondering where this life starts and where it ends. is it somewhere between the inhale of a sharp breath and the wilting of a leaf, or drowning in exhales while the sun gives rise to a new day? it sometimes feels like the world will come to a crashing end if i don't solve… Continue reading the anxiety that holds

All Writing & Art, Articles / Longer Pieces, Elephant Journal, Published Work

Suicide & Love: We Are Not Alone {Elephant Journal}

I see the calls at this time of year for words on suicide—asking for stories and experiences and prevention advocacy and advice. Before now I felt that I had nothing to add to the conversation. I thought, “my story isn’t as worthy as theirs,” or “I’ve never attempted suicide, so the suicidal feelings I experience… Continue reading Suicide & Love: We Are Not Alone {Elephant Journal}

All Writing & Art, Poetry. Prose. Letters.

In the Mirror (my worst days)

This is what it feels like on my worst days. This is what I see in the mirror when my ptsd/trauma/depression/anxiety/abuse memory is taking a firm grip.  I created this partly during a moment of feeling all this, partly while sitting outside of the feeling, observing it. But I put it to one side in… Continue reading In the Mirror (my worst days)

All Writing & Art, Poetry. Prose. Letters.

the hour

She lay on the cold, hard floor, aching and alone, recalling the previous hour when she battled her inner demons to stand up and speak her most painful and harrowing truths. Her heart feeling more battered and bruised than ever before. She didn't know it yet, but one day she would look back and write… Continue reading the hour