Now you see me

The back of a hand after speaking up

The weight of a body after saying no

Life breath taken as fingers close around a throat

The prick of a pin

A love of heroine

A mad mind

Close to suicide

A decade of life

She lives

You should see her now

More words

I’m talking

But there is no one to hear me

I empty my soul into an empty room

The walls keep my secrets

Silently screaming


These thoughts are deafening

Surely someone


Please listen to me

Sometimes I write poetry

The markings of his clan he wears like armour

His eyes betray nothing

His strength and bravery fill the air around him

He is fearless

He is steadfast

He is a warrior

Men cower in his presence

Not her

She is marked too

Her skin speaks of battles with unseen forces

She is a protector

A defender

She is unafraid

Body and soul bared

Revealing her weaknesses

She rises to meet his challenge

She is a warrior too

It’s all hair

I have a tell.

I want to shave my head.

That’s my tell.

That is my sign to the people I talk to.

When my mental health is suffering shaving my head is one of the first things I think about. And that’s a big deal.

I have a lot of hair. Even with half of my head shaved already I still have a lot of hair. Not gonna lie. It’s good hair.

My hair is part of my identity. It shouldn’t be, but it is. It’s not unusual to be described by my hair.

To be honest I really do love my hair. So it’s interesting and confusing to me why it’s the first thing I think about when my brain is not playing nice.

How would shaving my head help me?

Seriously. I’m asking this question because I don’t know the answer.

This past week I thought about it again. Normally the thought is fleeting, but this time I called my stylist and told her to cancel my colour appointment.

She’s been with me through my depression so she’s never shocked when I have these moments. She’s a fellow mental health sufferer too so she understands.

So now I’m one step closer to hacking it all off. I get anxious when I think about it. Then I remember the quote, “If it scares you it might be a good thing to do”.

Will I be healed? Unlikely. BUT maybe it’s time to get rid of something that is no longer of use to me. I mean really, why am I hanging on to hair? Maybe a drastic change is what I need in my life?

If you want change you must change correct?

Talk soon



Over the weekend I decided to get rid of my social media. Two of the anyway (I still have Twitter). And this? I’m told blogging is considered social media? No matter. I exited the two big ones.

My reasons?

I have a few.

1. I’d like to use my time more constructively. Be more productive. Be more creative.

2. I want to stop talking/posting just for the sake of posting. I want what I say to be of worth. No one needs to see another meme. Seriously.

3. I’d like my interactions with people to be real. No more messenger. You wanna talk? Call or text or let’s meet. (Actually don’t call. I’m not a good phone talker lol)

4. I want to spend more time discovering who I am. You can’t do that by staring at everyone else’s life.

I’m even considering taking this media hiatus a step further by taking a vow of silence.

I’ve been giving it a lot of thought. Unfortunately I have to speak at my job, but evenings and weekends I can absolutely do.

What do I expect to gain from this?

Well, it’s going to teach me to be a better listener. Not just to myself, but to others.

I’m going to have to deal with thoughts and emotions quietly. There won’t be any talking things through. Just me and what ever’s bugging me.

And maybe my meditation will get better 🙏🏼

Whatever I do, ‘Quietly’ seems to be my focus.

Sounds simple enough.

We all know it’s not going to be.

Wish me luck

I’ll shut up now

Yesterday I thought about suicide.

Not the first time.

But the first time in a long time.

My brain has been good to me lately. Life has been good. I am not complaining. Which is why yesterday was so bad.

The day started off well enough. Then midday, a text. A trigger. And then the slow spiral into despair.

I did reach out. Something I rarely do. And now I know why. There was nothing anyone said, or could have said, or didn’t say that would have helped. I realize now that my coping mechanism of hiding is the best solution for me. It shouldn’t be, but it is. Words are not enough. And I don’t have the option of company. Not that anyone would offer anyway.

Something else I realized.

Today I am still under a dark cloud, but I’m home now for the night. I can read and eat chocolate and go to bed. And hopefully forget that I’m all alone. For a few hours anyway.

At least I’m not thinking about not waking up.

Baby steps

Hawthorn heart

I guess if I’m gonna do this I need to be honest. Like brutally. Not just write about the good stuff or the bad but not so bad stuff. Everything counts. Everything gets equal time. Nothing gets omitted. It’s the only way this is gonna work.

Perfect timing.

Normally I would’ve pretended today didn’t happen. Not because anything horrible happened, but because of how I felt.

Today those stupid, yet absolutely normal, feelings of loneliness won. I’m not even sure how it happened. I’ve felt great for so long now. And I know they are only feelings. They are not real. They don’t mean anything. They will pass. Still…my heart fuckin’ hearts. I didn’t want to come home to an empty space. Today I am tired of being alone. Today my body aches for connection and affection. None of which is coming. It hasn’t for a long time now. Mostly I accept it. I am my own best friend. I find ways to make my life enjoyable and fulfilled. But sometimes it’s not enough.

My worst fear is dying alone. I know that sounds dramatic. It’s how I feel and my feelings, like everyone else’s, is valid. Maybe I’m wrong, but I see no indication of that.

Time for tea. It’s hawthorn tonight. Hawthorn berry is good for all things heart. Even broken ones