I’m no good at skateboarding. It’s not about balance. I do yoga on the semi-regular and can hold a tree with the middlest of them. It’s about impact on cement and being kind of a chicken. I’m also pretty willing to give up. As Homer Simpson says, “if something’s hard to do, it’s not worth doing.” I like being comfortable and not looking the fool … Continue reading Skinned knees hurt.
I’m intimately acquainted with self-harm and have the scars and open sores to prove it. It’s a strange behaviour, one that’s hard to understand even when you engage in it. It’s hard to talk about and hard for the people in your life to “get”. It’s hard for them to know how to help and near impossible to say what you need. My mom bought … Continue reading Reblog: “Teen mental health and self harm: Understanding why — Imagine Therapy”
The dead are piling up. The dead are piling up like dishes in the sink. The hospitals are full and so is the counter space, And nothing is as different as it seems. I came across a draft poem in one of my journal entries from April of last year. I don’t hate it. I’ve been reviewing last year’s diaries to see what life … Continue reading The dead are piling up.
I’m full of “what if”. I make the safe choice regularly. I make the “no choice” even more often. Fear plays a big part. It’s easy to listen to her. She swears the embarrassment that comes from failing is fatal. She lies but I believe her on some level and restrict my behaviour accordingly. Yet, I’ve been embarrassed before and here I sit, not dead. … Continue reading Better an oops.
From Famine to Feast 