For the past year, I have been listening to music with no lyrics because I couldn’t take the unintended triggers music I like was causing me. I made a new playlist today. If it doesn’t work, I will go back to the nice playlist a pirate friend of mine made.
Tag: mental health Page 9 of 11
Every 40 seconds, someone dies by suicide. That’s a staggering number. I’m not writing today to fill up space with facts and figures. We all know about suicide and its devastating effects. We know we need to be kinder to one another. I’m not writing today to the people who already do this and who raise awareness to try to reduce the numbers of suicides. I’m writing to the person reading this that has felt low enough to consider completing suicide. I know how it feels.
I’m sitting at work watching a marathon of Star Wars movies. It’s quiet at the youth shelter on the overnight shift and I can get a lot of things done. My only real distraction is the ticking clock on the living room wall. Clocks should be made to be silent, but it’s not my home and it’s not my clock, so I try to shut the noise out as best I can as I continue to think about the direction my life is now headed toward and how I’d like to get there.
The dragonflies dart in front of me. They are large and swift, but are careful not to be a nuisance. They rise and fall as they flutter through the air, searching for a perch in which to look for prey.
The honesty of empty places
a thought
a smile
books, hiking, breathing
happiness in solitude
enjoyment in alone
sit and watch
humans
animals
smiles from creatures
who do not understand
the joy of isolated socialization
I have turned in my key. I have made my peace. I am no longer a reporter and photographer for the Star-Herald.
For the past five and a half years, I have written on a variety of topics and always put my best foot forward. That time has come to an end.
My day began with a flashback. It caught me unaware, arriving moments after opening my eyes. I had been fighting flashbacks on and off for about a week. Using my coping skills, I felt I had won this battle and headed off to work – tired, sleep-deprived, hopeful.
The memories are flames that lick the edges of my life, always anxious to burn me once again. They are always there and always exhausting. I want to cry. I’m angry. I’m tired. Some days, nothing makes them go away. A touch, a smell, anything that triggers the memories can ruin my day.