I (Didn’t) Kill Myself: The Bipolar Edition

I don’t think anyone could have saved me. Not Jesus, not the warmth of a small child, not a favorite song or a cry from a friend, “How could you be so selfish?!”
How did they not see – how to we not see – that it isn’t about selfishness. It’s about escaping from a prison. You can’t tell me to hold on when absolutely nothing within me believes there is anything worth holding on for.

a frayed string

I’m after a chance of hope, the last sputter of light from a dying fire, wondering why you won’t send off a brighter spark for me.

As Long As I Can Laugh

    During the winter of 2014, I was researching the least painful ways to commit suicide. After stumbling upon an avenue that seemed rather attractive to me, I figured I should call someone. “What?” My friend answered the phone; I could tell she was half asleep. “Okay, so, I’m going to add you to […]

This Probably Shouldn’t Be Funny: A Struggle

For those of you who have subscribed to my blog by email, you know that the title of this post is also the title of a novel I’m working on. But in case you aren’t an email follower… This Probably Shouldn’t Be Funny: A Struggle is inspired by the conversations my friend from rehab (Erin) and […]

Trauma Speaks: On Addiction

Everything from the popping heat on the back of my preadolescent throat to the throbbing sense of dullness my body gave into as the alcohol entered my bloodstream – these were the sensations that made the taste worth it. These were the feelings I was willing to chase at any cost.