I’ll start out by saying that my parents don’t like us to label ourselves.
They don’t like us to share them either.

As a child it used to take me at least two hours to fall asleep.
Thoughts would race through my head like boxcars.
I would repeat what I was excited about the most
until my brain would get tired enough to let me rest.
Some doctors would call that insomnia, but that’s not what I had.

Since the age of six, I haven’t believed in god.
His existence always felt like a fairytale
that adults never grew out of.
Some people would call this atheism, but that’s not what I have.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been worried.
Every event in my day was cause for panic.
I would string them along like paper chains
with no rest in between.
Some doctors call that anxiety, but that’s not what I have.

I can’t remember a time when I didn’t pick at my skin.
I’ll rip off pieces until my skin gets mad
and bleeds red with anger.
Some doctors would call that dermatillomania, but that’s not what I have.

Since middle school, I’ve been afraid of germs.
I won’t touch my face without washing my hands first
which makes it take twice as long to put on makeup.
I can’t eat without sanitizing my hands
which makes people skeptical to get to know you better.
Some doctors would call that germaphobia, but that’s not what I have.

When I was fifteen my throat used to close up
every time I thought about death.
Sometimes you don’t realize you’re breathing until you’re gasping for air.
Some doctors call that a panic attack, but that’s not what I had.

I’ve been on antidepressants for three years
in order to calm down my brain
from running too many marathons.
My heart was never able to catch up.
Some doctors might say that this is because I was depressed.
But that’s not what I have.

My therapist told me…
— ****, I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.

Somebody told me to come here today so that
I could be honest to myself and others
about the problems that don’t have names.
The words that I can’t say out loud.

I’m hoping with this discussion
I will someday be able to say that
I used to not be able to fall asleep for hours.
I used to not believe in god, I used to worry all the time.
That I no longer pick at my skin.
I’m no longer afraid of germs.
My throat used to close up,
and I’m no longer on antidepressants.

Because I have problems that can't be labelled.

father blank be thy name.
thy will follow the script,
thy must be kind.
on earth as it is in heaven.
give us this Christmas our yearly word
and forgive us our hypocriticalness
as we judge others before we repent ourselves.
tell us not of our faults,
rather teach us the ways to earn our tickets
as allegiance is not forced, it is learned.
for thine is the bread and the wine and the whiskey too
for ever and ever
amen.

someone suggested that we pick a word to repeat.
hers was "breathe."

I think I might choose cad-dy-whomped.
it reminds me of the sound a train makes
when it's rushing down the tracks.

it'll give my mind something to sing it to sleep.

at age six, I told the god that I didn't believe existed
that I wasn't going to wish him happy birthday anymore.

these days we come full circle:
I spent my eleventh birthday
with death behind my eyes and a best friend that wouldn't call.

on my thirteen and a quarter birthday
I spent my day dreaming with the sun.
at 11:33 PM, I hand-wrote a will
and hid it in my drawer so that
my parents would know who should get my
babysitting money and the naked American Girl Doll
with the dislocated leg.

these days we come full circle:
I spent my twentieth year
having nightmares that my dad killed my brother.
my mom was flying the helicopter --
we were watching them from above and
she wouldn't let me save him.
all I could do was pray that he wouldn't get
****** into the nothingness
that I was destined for.

my:  favorite color has always been gray, even though my
mother:  never believed me. she
says:  that this isn’t normal for a nine year old. colors like
these:  hint at your mental state. the
things:  I thought about at night made me go into a panic.
“are:  you going to die in your sleep tonight? should you write a last will and testament just in case?” I felt
like:  my heart was trying to jump up out of my throat. my cheeks would turn
red:  and I would put my head between my legs to steady my breathing. I would try to take my mind off of the finality of it all by thinking of anything else — the
diamonds:  that nobody would ever give me, how good medium
rare:  steak tastes as it melts in your mouth
and:  how
precious:  it is that my little brother is still my biggest fan.
and:  how does one have a moral compass if god isn’t at the center moving the arrow? — by believing that you’ll have a
beautiful:  and fulfilling life if you treat other people beautifully.

I had leaps and bounds picked for me you see.
plums with their crow’s foot skin
those tiny sour grapes and their toddler arms
hugging the waist of their own mother
because they weren’t yet big enough
to make it on their own.
all for the love of parents
who refused to pledge me to the catholic church
in preparation for their wedding in ’89.
and what’s the point of children
if not to make them soldiers?

here’s
what they don’t tell you in sunday school.
no matter if you make it to heaven or hell,
you could still be sitting next to the elementary school shooter
depending on whether or not he prays
to the right god.

my father always said
that if he meets jesus, he’ll apologize.
“sorry,
man I didn’t know. if it’s any consolation,
I believe in you now.”

two weeks ago
a friend grabbed my steering wheel
and she turned me into the next lane.
she believes in god
more than she believes in saying sorry.

if I ever prove her wrong and
meet god, I’ll ask him
if he watches over malala
and why he had to let
those three children
get hit with a semi truck on the way home from the fair.
giving their parents triplets
of the same gender as before
wasn’t good enough
even if oprah called it a miracle.

we always tell each other
that the murderers are going
to h-e-double hockey sticks.
is this wishful thinking?
are we just incapable
of picturing adolf with a pair of angel wings?

even if I didn’t know it then,
these thoughts
might just be the reason
that I used to get panic attacks
when I thought about heaven.
I’ve always been a restless soul
and being stuck somewhere forever
was never
my style.