My Brain is Sick

My brain is sick. Very sick. I hate to admit that. It’s not physical. You can’t hear me falling apart. You can’t see the lack of chemicals. There is no evidence of the life I live aside from the stories I tell and the art I create. There is no way to know I’m telling …

I Am an Artist

I am an artist. Just as many have been before and many more will follow. It’s not just a skill or a talent. It is life. Every part of who I am is incapsulated by the desire to create even though in my eyes, I’m not even good. Colour. Movement. Words. Life. Nothing can escape. …

Homesick

I wish I could say that being at home is a dream come true. That I spend each day creating art and making music. That my heart is filled with joy and the only tears that fall from my eyes are because of happiness that is exploding out of me. Peace. Hope. Comfort. But in …

Oh My Ward

10:00 pm. The doors open with a strong breath of air. Rushed chatter and muffled weeping. A place filled with both hope and grief. I go up to the desk and with trembling hands and a shaky voice I whisper the reason I'm here. "I'm suicidal." Shame. Embarrassment. Guilt. Emotions rush through my veins in …

Recovery?

I will never fully understand how the prison of an eating disorder took over my mind. One moment, I looked into the mirror and saw a girl so dazed by her own beauty. Full stomach meant good food. Begging and pleading her sisters to let her borrow their crop top despite the evident chub that …