woman writing in a journal next to a mug of coffee

The Imperfect Post

This is what life with bipolar looks like – it can be structured, planned, intentional…but still the array of emotions I feel each day can be overwhelming. On top of work, daily duties, being a wife, working to be a better wife, working to be a better person. Overwhelming is a gently word to explain how I feel sometimes. Sometimes often.

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The “Sometimes” List

I recently read a LinkedIn post by a writer who said, “Your audience needs to hear from you consistently. Not perfectly.” And I thought, that is so true. I don’t have to publish the most eloquent blog post in order for my content, my words, my thoughts to be relevant

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typewriter on white wood

An Evening I Will Not Forget

Dermot Kennedy’s songs came up twice in last weekend’s Writespace workshop, which was about connecting your writing to sounds. And, I signed up for the workshop with Dermot Kennedy on my mind because I am so, very moved by his music and I am always super inspired to write when

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Doubt is a Mother

I’m really doubting myself right now. Doubting my abilities as a writer, as an employee, a wife. I feel like I don’t have much to offer. I don’t know why these people keep me in their lives — maybe they feel bad for me and know I’d be alone without

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Potter’s Closure

I started off on journey, not toward closure specifically but a journey toward a better life, toward a newer, healthier version of myself. I am seeing a counselor regularly. I have been on medication for several months now. I am reading inspirational books, I am praying, I am limiting my

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The brokenhearted child

I wanted to write something eloquent. But fuck it. In my therapy, I am uncovering decades of hurt, beginning from even before my earliest memories. My counselor asked me the most incredible question I think a therapist could ask someone who is suicidal. “How old do you feel when you

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Another Borderline Book

I was instantly engaged and memories were flooding through my head, negative and positive, with peace in knowing that needing to feel validated is okay, as the author says. The Foreword said to me, “this book will be a part of your journey to healing.” So on I read.

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Biological Blues

So my mother, whether rightfully or unrightfully so, gets the blame for my childhood and adulthood challenges. Well, I had a slap-in-the-face epiphany yesterday when I saw a current day photo of my biological father. He looked frail, like a grandpa. And he is a grandpa. There was a picture

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Wandering Child

I breathe the air of queens pastRespite I thought was sure to lastI was never meant to be your shadow to castYour tag-along you’d drag alongTo smoke cigarettes and talk cars all nightNo place for a child in your ragged lifeLet me speak my concessions while you hold the knifeBloodied

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