what happens when you're forever stuck in a transitional phase?
where the hours to days to months and years of time
keep repeating,
where you live in loops while you wait
for something better to come
or better yet - to be something more,
to become something you've always wanted to be.
but your floors are still covered with things you used to love
and its getting harder to do your laundry every week
sometimes you don't want to be home anymore but you know you should;
there's no where else to truly go,
nothing like a home.
what happens when a signal
finally dies out?
does the receiving end ever stop to acknowledge
this loss of electrical power?
no more surging through the seams of life,
i stay stagnant without wanting to be.

Man.. this one seems like a big one.
Last year was one of the worst.
Still struggling..
Gasping for air.

I’m ******* fightin’!
The grasp on me right now
Is so ******* intense..

I can ******* do this.
I’ve harshed the weather of the storm.
..but I keep getting back up.
Yes, this is rock bottom.

I wasn’t supposed to
Be alive this long.
I have fought many battles
In this ****** up life.
Today is no different.

I will rise up.
I am no longer a victim
Of this insidious reality.

Speak up.
Use your voice.
Take that hand..

YOU are the solution.
In order to get there
You just fight & grow.

Year 35…
I AN GOING TO THRIVE ✨✨

I was so curious.
I felt free.
There was warmth..

So I thought.

Things start
to blur & cloud.
I thought this
was the light I needed.

I fell hard
& fast.
Deeper I go.
The light dims..

What have I done?
What is this place?
There must be
a way out.

I'm clawing, jumping,
gasping for air.
I see the surface.

I push harder,
but still no luck.

There appears a hand
as to reach for me.
I grab hold tight.

I slip as the
current pulls
me down.
I feel trapped.

I feel hopeless
& lonely.
But I cannot
give up.

I see a second
& then a third
hand plunge
down into the water.

I can suddenly breathe!
I'm alive!

I have found my people.
No longer feeling lonely.
The way has been shown.

..here comes the darkness.
Seeping in every corner.
Covering me like a blanket.

I feel numb,
yet on fire within
a void.

My body &
mind slow down.
& my stomach
in my throat.

I cannot tell
what I'm feeling.
But it's lonely
& dark here.

I cry a thousand tears of pain.
I can barely breathe.

I remember what
someone once
told me.

So I take
3 deep breathes,
close my eyes,
& hold myself close.

This won't last forever.
I know I can fight this.

We've done this
dance many
times before.

I hug myself tighter
as I begin to smile.

I have Bipolar.
My Bipolar does not
have me.

I tell myself
this over & over..

I open my eyes & sigh deeply.

It's going to be okay.
We WILL heal from this.

Overwhelming thoughts and feelings,
Spiraling down a deep, dark hole.
I can’t breathe—I just keep reeling,
Haunted by the places I’ve lost control.

Every step feels like a mistake,
A path of ruin I can’t escape.
Friendships hollow, love a lie,
No one sees the pain I hide.
I cannot breathe, I cannot be—
What’s so deeply wrong with me?

For a moment, I’m fine, the storm recedes,
But the calm is fleeting, and chaos breeds.
The weight crashes down; I can’t bear the sound,
A tidal wave pulling me deeper to drown.
I know I’m broken, but why like this?
These sudden storms leave me breathless.

My heart is a horse on a racetrack,
Thundering, pounding, faster, faster.
No winner in this endless chase—
Just relentless thoughts, quickening pace.
“Are you okay?” they ask; I nod,
Hiding the battle, a perfect facade.
“It’s just a headache,” I quietly lie,
While inside, I fail and cry.

I try to focus, try to breathe,
But the darkness whispers, “You’ll never leave.”
Every effort feels destined to fail,
A silent scream in an endless gale.

In the mirror through tears, i notice that i am dressed in the scars of every deep wound I played off like a paper cut, and the phone in my pocket weighs a thousand pounds from your text messages.

I want to skip the ******* thing in a river.

Oil and water but just as much as I know we won’t ever mix, you convince me it’s all part of the recipe.

I have shrank down, cut pieces of myself like a cake and served everyone at every table a slice every time.

Stuffed my baggage in the closet and let you move yours in instead.

Cried like an anxious dog who’s owner wasn’t around.

And we called this pain love, for 20 years.

I slipped into the role, thanks to my parents.

Mentally ill and emotionally unaware,
It’s so easy to choose what’s easy and so hard to notice your love has gone rotten.

I changed my perspective and every smooth word started to sting.

I was kind as you were building up pieces of me to fuel your own fire.

I understood until I couldn’t anymore, but you never would.

Change your perspective with me, climb the mountain and realize the hike’s easier on the way down, i would’ve carried you all the way up if you asked me. But we sat for 20 years and heard everybody on the way back down talk about the view.

I chose to sit with you instead. And when I finally took that first step up, I should’ve known it meant leaving you behind me.

I am my own destiny. I am the bullet in the chamber and the consequences of the trigger pull. I am my own mind, I tended the garden of fear and worry and constant replay of mistakes and regret. I am more than who I think I should be for anyone else.


good luck with all the **** you’ve got going on. disrespectfully yours, your ex “best friend”

Study yourself- measure the intangible thing exactly.
Collect the data, but throw it out - you exaggerated.
Describe your experience, in detail, but know that
it's just a formality, for insurance- you seem fine.
Results of our studies say you're simply not real.
It isn't possible, no way around it. No way around
the system we've created to keep mercy confined
inside the sterile bottle of preapproved problems and solutions.

This has never happened to us, so it cannot happen to you.
This is not something I've seen before- and I am God.
This isn't pain, it's nothing, just a sham, a trend, vanity.
This must be fun, writing sad little pleas for help, cancelling life,
quitting your job all for the sake of playing pretend. Playing sick.
This would all go away if you would just lose a little weight,
grow so thin we could tuck you in an envelope with the bill and
send you back home. Come back when you're dead.

Are you sure you're not just anxious? Insane? Confused?
Are you secretly drinking rat poison, but you forgot?
Are you trying to get out of having to enjoy life?
Are you sure you're not just hysterical, womb wandering angrily
through your psyche, whispering silly things it read on the internet?
Are you simply an interloper here to ruin our day
by insisting that you are not a healthy young woman
who simply needs to get a hobby? Get laid? Get lost?

Have you tried gratitude? Yoga? Mindfulness? God? Satan?
Tums? Shutting up? Ibuprofen? Having a baby?
Have you tried being an entirely different person, the right kind?
Have you considered that you're not medically but
spiritually defective, missing a piece of your soul?
Have you considered that we're simply not willing to try
because the only thing wrong with you is you
and you've become quite a burden to us all?

We're sure you think you are sick- but we're sick of you.
We're sure you're just looking for attention, sympathy,
to challenge us, to get some mysterious satisfaction.
You must love spending all your time here, paying us in blood,
ignoring our script, writing your own. We've got your number-
in just a few rushed moments, forty five minutes late, we've
disassembled you in our heads, lost the screws, determined that
you're simply of subclinical importance. Here's that bill.

They tell me that everything has its time—
Each heartbreak, each joy, every mountain to climb.
But here I sit, drowning in despair,
Wondering why you’re not standing there.

Is it because my body’s wearing thin,
A battle outside reflecting within?
The aches and the weight that drag me down,
A silent war where I feel I might drown.
My balance is gone; the world spins fast,
Each moment a fight just to make it last.
I clutch at walls to steady my pace,
Yet even standing feels like a race.
I’m trapped in a body that won’t obey,
A fragile shell that fades away.

The mirror feels cruel, revealing my fight—
A body in shadow, drained of its light.
I don’t know this face, these heavy eyes,
The weight of sorrow, the endless cries.
It doesn’t see the war inside my mind,
Only the shell that’s been left behind.
I search for the person I used to see,
But all that’s left feels foreign to me.

Maybe the reason we’re not together now
Is hidden in the weight I carry somehow.
My body is failing; my mind feels weak.
The healing I need will take months, not just weeks.
I’m fighting a battle I don’t fully understand,
Too broken to hold another’s hand.

And perhaps you’re healing in your own way,
Facing the wounds you’ve buried each day.
There are pieces of you that still need repair—
A journey to take while I’m not there.
Maybe the universe knows what we don’t,
That we need this time apart to grow.

I wish you were here to steady my fall,
To be my comfort, my strength through it all.
To hold me close, to ease this pain,
To bring some light to the endless rain.
But my sickness is not a burden you should bear,
Not for someone already lost in despair.
You’re fighting your demons, I know that’s true—
It wouldn’t be fair to place this on you.
So maybe it’s better that you’re not near,
For you too have wounds that need to clear.
Perhaps this distance, though hard to endure,
Is part of the reason we’re meant to mature.

And as the year slips closer to its end,
I pray for more time, though I cannot pretend.
With my health declining, I can’t promise tomorrow—
Each day is a balance of hope and sorrow.
Still, everything happens for reasons unseen.
What will be, will be, whatever it means.

Yet, there’s a whisper, soft yet unkind—
A shadow that lingers deep in my mind.
What if the stars won’t guide you back?
What if this love is the one thing I lack?
What if the reasons I cling to are lies,
And love won’t return, no matter my tries?
Am I holding to hope just to numb the fear,
Afraid to accept that you’ll never be near?

Maybe we’re not soulmates; maybe it’s true.
Maybe the stars weren’t meant for me and you.
But I truly believe everything happens for reasons unseen,
Guiding us gently, wherever they mean.

So, if you’re my person, the stars will align.
Through distance and time, your heart will find mine.
If we are meant to be, that truth will arrive.
But first, I must focus on staying alive—
Healing my body, reclaiming my mind,
Seeking the strength I thought I’d never find.
For only when I’m whole can love take its place,
And time will reveal if you share that space.

For now, I wait, with questions unspoken,
Believing some truths are best left broken.
And maybe, just maybe, the path we can’t see
Is still guiding us gently to where we should be.

Sometimes in life when you've just had enough
you gotta laugh 'till your ribs are painful but tough.
If somehow you can't laugh at yourself, the place you end up is tragically rough. Try to see some humor, because life is bizarre and for mental health. How long can you keep holding on? Pride and grudges are poison, move on. Let go. Keep moving on, steady and slow, just let it go. The grudge is a con. Retain the memory for future reference if future judgement calls are needed. But by letting go, you only lose the pain, not the experience heeded.