The word came out of the TV and hung in the air. It stayed there all day. One word described exactly how I felt the weeks leading up to and during my most recent hospitalization.
I’ve now been hospitalized five times for my psychiatric illnesses. I find this fact shocking. The only thing I find more shocking was the unrelenting mixed episode that landed me in the hospital, again.
I don’t hate my life. I hate the way I feel. And the more I try to fix the outsides, the more confusing it becomes as to why I want to die. I can get the outsides shiny and clean, but shiny and clean do not sanity make.
A piece I wrote was included in Chapter 4 of Politiken’s “200 Words” – a global collaboration about our shared experiences living in the world during our current pandemic.
I am not a doctor, a nutritionist or a farmer (that third one was just for fun). I’m just a hot babe who kicked her CAEBV back into dormancy in 12 weeks like a badass ninja.
Most people don’t know the Phoenix lights her own funeral pyre. Because death and fire aren’t negatives for her. Fire cleanses her so she can be reborn. She does this over and over again in her lifetime.
https://www.instagram.com/p/BbpL7BvgDx_/?taken-by=courtrundell I was really fucking angry yesterday and Thursday. I wanted to hurt people. I wanted to punch and kick…
It was so curious how she was always her weirdo self, yet was pretty popular in the Goth crowd. It reminded me of school – I had to study for hours to get an A on a test, while my friends would barely study and ace it. I mean, for fuck’s sake, I practiced my serious face for hours in the mirror only to be dragged around the club by Bill the Cat.