Bones, sometimes. Sometimes, rice.

Bones.




They are still there -
those dusty bones.
The gray hard kind, the jaws cannot break them
though now they bend.
The yeilding to teeth
to thought
but a persistance through anything
The gloom still comes, lingers long
though with effort
some work
jaw clapping, tooth gnashing
I can force my way out
out out, and up, to bite the sun.

Hi.

I am still going.

Still battling; chemicals aside. They still help, though this week was bad. Something having your period fucks everything up. I sunk back into that perpetual gloom that made me go to bed for almost two hours for a nap. I struggle with emotions - no surprise there. But then again, I just left my work in favor of another, and those kinds of changes can be frightening. I like a semblance of expectant routine in my life, even if I seem to act on a whim. (Let me assure you though, I've adapted some, having a toddler changes a lot of shit, and routines can be thrown into the wind with a small child.)

So where am I now.

Still on that shit, that medication. I over think - a lot, on it. The complete lack of feeling, other than 'fuck it'.

I follow, and read a blog by a person, and her recent entry hit home extremely hard. It put into words - and pictures, what some of this shit is like.
 - Hyperbole and a Half - I suggest reading it, in all seriousness. For all the silly pictures, amusing tit for tat, this person, like  many others, hurts. I keep going back to this and reading it, and having understanding and other unmentionable things hit me hard.

Its hard for me to put into words what I feel without using abstract, symbolic word play, but that right there, puts it right there.

Makes a body think.

No crashing, though. Stumbles, yes, but no crashing.

I am quite grateful for the few people I allow to see this, because I trust them. It takes a lot to share this part of myself with others.
 I don't even like admitting this shit to myself.