“Your medicine is working really well”, my husband told me recently. “You’re doing really well”. I told him thanks, and I’m okay, I think. I guess. But there is an undercurrent, a constant undercurrent. I try to explain it to him. It’s like the sound a shell makes when you hold it to your ear,Continue reading “Dreams”
Author Archives: thefreeclimb
Violence
I have hardly been able to function today. Visions, images, memories of my father flood my mind and I can’t escape them. I can’t escape them. They make me want to die, to crawl out of my skin and scratch my way out of this world just to escape the pain. I smoke a cigarContinue reading “Violence”
Smoke.
My brother died six years ago. I lit some incense tonight and I’ve watched it swirl and swirl and disappear, like his face, his voice, my memories. The thought makes me hate the smoke, and I hate the correlation I’ve just made. He will never be dead to me. Sometimes I have dreams, and IContinue reading “Smoke.”
The Beast Roared
Sometimes I get the very sad sensation that there are no words to say. Like I’m standing at the edge of a cliff, madness beneath me, its’ hot breath pressing in around me, rushing in one ear and out the other with whispers of my life’s failures and futility. I can feel the weight ofContinue reading “The Beast Roared”
June 15, 2019 – edited. On anger and antidepressants.
Tonight there are a lot of thoughts tumbling around inside my head, tumbling, tumbling, tumbling. It’s confusing – they jump around a lot. It feels like I don’t have a grip on my anger the way I did before the medicine kicked in. It’s hard to find, like an ember barely burning in the sunshine,Continue reading “June 15, 2019 – edited. On anger and antidepressants.”
Overstimulation and mental hoarding; Saturday night.
Full, full, full. Overfilled. It is a feeling with no words to act as a launching pad for description. Full isn’t right. Racing? No. It hurts, it’s painful. There are things that need a way out, but can’t come out with only words. That may not come out at all. It’s the feeling that aContinue reading “Overstimulation and mental hoarding; Saturday night.”
