Just the Cat's Pyjamas

I hear the whirring of cogs and gears as my mind begins to buzz and hum with that eternally raging manic energy that I have missed so much. Breathe deeply. Inhale. Exhale. Breathe deeply. No. Deeper. The thoughts rush in like a torrent. I am underwater. I am drowning. No sign of land. No sign of land. Is this real? Is any of this real? The sky mustard gray, as the filthy earth shifts beneath my frame. This world will burn one day. The sun, old and tired, will spread out past the moon, and set this world on fire. The moon. My sister the moon. Cold and lonely. Hidden from the sun. She hangs silently, the guardian of the night. Silver glittering stars hum to her. Their song crackles on the cool night breeze. The Earth. My mother the Earth. I was born of her, I suckled at her breast. Rain washes her, freeing her of the day's dust and filth. Sweet Mother Earth. Sing to me. Hum a soft sad tune. The hills whisper my name, calling me to live among them. Free, like a wild beast, naked and u...

This blog post includes discussion of suicidal ideation. Please be advised. If you are thinking of harming yourself or are concerned about someone you love, please utilize the resources below. National Suicide Prevention Lifeline [USA] Call :  1-800-273-8255 Website :  https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org Chat :  https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/chat •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital in December 2009 following a summer filled with raging manic energy and then that inevitable crash into the darkest suicidal depression I have ever experienced. I spent about five days in the hospital, where I received a diagnosis of bipolar disorder. My diagnosis has changed a couple times and it's been added to since then, but that was the beginning of this journey back to wellness on which I still find myself. I have always written in diaries and journals, and below you will find scattered entries and random documents I scribbled into t...

Please enjoy this short selection of miscellaneous poetic works by the Author of this blog. I am naked hungry and afraid Dark. So dark.  The scent of cedar Mildew and rot.  Decay.  I am alone.  So lonely.  I am afraid.  The taste of rust acrid in the air as mud and rain pour from  my feeble wrists into a river.  A rumble.  A crack!  Illumination.  I am the last of my kind.  Endangered.  Endangered?  I am extinct.  I long to consume you. Flesh, blood and bone. Watch, as I unhinge my jaw and swallow you whole. You do not struggle. You allow yourself to be taken in. Your flesh will be my flesh, your bones will be my bones. I will consume you. I long to be crushed. I long to suffocate under the weight of it all. To slowly be smothered. I long to feel my bones shatter as I am pressed. I long to feel the last shallow breath escape my lungs. I long to submit to the hopelessness. I long to be numb. I a...

Every morning, I wake up and see them. The many, many bottles sitting on my nightstand. I groan. Another day of these fucking pills. One, two, three, four... I count them out. I barely have to look at the labels now, I can tell them apart just by the sound they make when I shake the bottle. “Promise me you’ll always remember — you’re braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.” • A. A. Milne Every morning, before I toss them into my mouth, I hesitate. I could just STOP. Stop fighting, stop this battle. Admit defeat. I could choose that. Most mornings, the hesitation is short lived. Some mornings, though, it seems harder to force myself to take these goddamned pills again.  "In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on." • Robert Frost I've been taking these meds consistently for a decade. A decade. And I've been on and off them for over two decades. I was prescribed my first psych meds ...