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Life As 12 Year Old Me

Growing up was awkward for me. I was not popular, I did not play any sports, and my family was poor. That’s pretty much the trifecta when you’re young and trying to survive in the clique nation. By the time I was in high school, I sported a mowhawk and carried labels like Satanist and … Continue reading

Writing About Mental Illness

Bipolar I When I feel good, the world is gold and my heart beats glitter.   This poem eeked out of me during my recent eight day stay at Pine Rest psychiatric hospital. It was not my first visit and I am pretty sure it won’t be my last either. Such is the life for … Continue reading

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Queen of the bad haircuts with coffee for blood.