I was in a complete pit of despair and then the doorbell rang… I inspired someone who was inspiration to me….

This is something I'm dealing with mentally. If you grew up feeling unwanted by your family, then I'm sure you'll understand where I'm coming from.

This would be a story about how I was in a car accident and what happened to me after the accident and what injuries I got from it

This is a small essay my English teacher from last year had her students write. I wasn't particularly proud of it then, but I like it a lot more now.

If I were a dragon, I wouldn't hoard gold; my hoard would be an overstuffed, slightly disorganized filing cabinet crammed with hobbies and random bits of information. This new “blogging” hobby is the metaphysical manifestation of me pulling out those papers one by one and showing them to you — whether you asked for them or not. Welcome to my first post.

This poem was written while I was going from in & out of mental hospitals. It was a real life struggle to deal with. And I'm hoping some of you might actually stay to read it.

Love is the most beautiful, hurtful, stupid, fun, amazing, crazy, happy, sad thing you can ever experience.

My brain is my own very personal hell. LET ME OUT! Anxiety and depression and mania! OH MY!!!!!!!!!!

This essay is about the moment I ceased being recognized as a person in a medical setting, and the deeper spiritual wound of disappearing inside my own body. It explores erasure not as physical suffering, but as the quiet dismantling of identity — the uninhabiting of the self. The story lives in absence first, then traces the return of personhood through belonging and divine naming.This is a story about what it means to vanish in plain sight — and the moment God returned me to myself.

A short version of my story written with a touch of my hometown southern grit. I grew up in a one stop light town in rural North Carolina. I wanted to try to bring some of that "small southern town" energy thru to the reader with this one.

Where can I publish? I am trying to get my work out there and make some money not sure if it pays, but I really do enjoy every bit of it. I just need help, I’m not sure where to go. Writing is my favorite and I’ve grown so much since high school and would love to share. If ANYONE can point me in the direction to get paid for some of my work- that would be amazing! I kinda wanted to make a book… not sure yet! That’s another chapter I’m not submitting yet but was hoping to bring my idea to an illustrator or something. PLEASE HELP. Thanks in advance.

This entry is my 'second song' I wrote a while back. Titled, Bacillus, this is taking inspiration from bacteria-Bacillus is a rod shaped bacteria that forms resilient endospores. Science and poetry on the occasion merge quite well :)

This entry is a song that I wrote a while back-Lyrics came from some poetry I was doing in my journal, upon some reflection, I decided to write a song about some of my lived experiences and struggles with family and mental health-this is just for fun and wanted to post it somewhere! Thank you for reading!

"Physician, heal thyself." Not a doctor, don't even play one on TV. Follow me to see just how much a man can take.

Rantings of a newly clean addict. How I got here, how it's going, and how I'm dealing with it. One day at a time!

Life is kicking my ass. Bills, mental health, work, and everything in between. Tune in for a bit of my scattered thoughts.

Hi there. My story begins here, when my parents first divorced. My parents started drifting apart when my Nana died. My father was abusive. He was screaming at my mom for hours for not doing something correctly, up to his standards. he called her worthless, pathetic, and a terrible mother. Our house had always sparkled. It was always clean. He never did anything around the house. He just came home and yelled and fought. My mom, had finally divorced him, after years of fighting. She moved out. Then… my father began abusing me. He hated me for siding with my mom. He said I was too much like her. He thought my mom “brainwashed” me to hate him, despite me watching him try to kill her. Surprisingly, the thing that stung the most about all of this, is that my dad and me used to be incredibly incredibly close. I was his first daughter, and his only one. But he lost me after seeing what he did to my mom. This is all I can tell you here. Read below.

I am the neurodivergent daughter of a likely neurodivergent father. He will never be interested in pursuing this allegation, and may even take offence to it. Autism is a dirty word, despite the apparent “trend” of young people seeking diagnoses that don’t fit them.

welcome i made this space for quiet things — poems that breathe, stories that ache a little, words that don’t need to shout to be heard. if you found this, you were meant to. 🤍

A light can guide the way, by the wayside. Disappointment. Deceit. It wasn't ever a game. Hear, see.