Rae Rose

My daughter is 15 months and does not have any interest in her paintings. For the paintings that mean a ton to me — the first time she tried brushes, the first time she proudly handed me a piece — I’m cutting them into holes, writing their significance and turning them into ornaments. The rest of the artwork I staple together in a little book, and if I have enough I’ll use them as a journal. It’s fun writing next to her art!

I Have A Friend

by @jugs.judy

I have a friend who, amongst steelworks and supermarkets and an hourly bus, cut herself a husk and has been building retaining walls ever since

I have a friend who, in the litter flowing down the gutter, sees a river reflecting electric neon. Who does not smell the oil spreading slick in those first few seconds of rain

I have a friend who talks in tongues of film noir detectives, entangled in persecution narratives, the narcotics numbing the necrosis until they can’t

I have a friend submerged, an occasional wave within an otherwise glassy bay. I rest on the sand, waiting

I have a friend who is Not A Hugger, but who wrestles to feel the strain of another’s muscle and skin encasing their own

I have a friend in retrospect, an enemy at the time, a reflection in the mirror and a shadow trailing behind.

I Have Learned

by Andy Palasciano

I have learned that a sail has to be empty to catch the wind. I have learned that I cannot direct the direction a conversation will go any more than I can control the direction the wind will blow. I have learned that I cannot teach myself anything. And the children I taught when I was a Substitute Teacher showed me I cannot teach anyone else either. If learning is remembering, Substitute Teaching made me and those I attempted to teach want to forget.

Steve Kowit called a list poem a “creative inventory.” Each word should be carefully chosen and memorable, but it still really is just a list.

For example, here is one I found on the internet:

“What’s in the box under my bed?
eight marbles and a shoestring

a shiny bubble gum ring

two valuable baseball cards

some chocolate candy bars

a letter from my friend”

But ::my:: FAVORITE list poems are magical and strange.

My favorite is Joy Harjo’s She Had Some Horses. Here is an excerpt:

“She had some horses. She had horses who were bodies of sand. She had horses who were maps drawn of blood. She had horses who were skins of ocean water. She had horses who were the blue air of the sky. She had horses who were fur and teeth. She had horses who were clay and would break. She had horses who were splintered red cliff. She had some horses.”

My assignment is to write a list poem of your feelings own feelings. What kind of feelings do you have? What do they look like? What do they eat? Feel free to add images and magic.

Here is my draft:

“I have feelings that sing sad tunes.

Feelings that run from a cup of tea.

I have feelings that are scared

of men with a fondness of books.

I have feelings that move lie acrobats, like smoke.

Feelings that get drunk like bees and sting me when I try to move.”

Email me your poems at raeroselarkbloom@gmail.com

Write a list poem of your feelings!

One of my dearest friends, Selwyn Jesse Injety, who is my first call whenever I have a bipolar related concern recently posted about his own disorder. I read it and felt soooooo proud of him. I also felt like it was a found poem, meant to be read! So I asked if I could publish it here and He! Said! Yes! Here it is:

Maybe A Streetlight

I have schizoaffective disorder, a delightful mix of schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. you experience more and more psychotic symptoms as you labor through your adolescence, symptoms usually dropping in around mid-teen to early 20s…then the medicine, pretty much makes you sedated and lethargic, to a degree…while you try multiple cocktails of meds out over a few years…and struggle with how much of your cognitive ability you have to trade for sanity from psychotic symptoms.  as far as i know, there isn’t a formula for it.  it’s just a sucky math problem you find yourself living in.

i had my first major clinical depressive episode at 17, it lasted many months, while i was afraid to leave my bed for hours…but even though i knew i was not the first to deal with this, i found myself alone.

NOT because people don’t care, but because it’s a silent trauma that is so obviously easy to move past on the surface, coupled with the fact the others were dealing with my fathers trauma his illness had caused .  it is not simple, easy at all.  it is built on trauma, and hurting others even though you don’t mean to .  hurting yourself, in many ways, mentally and emotionally for being so weak as to be Mentally Ill, dealing with the guilt, etc. being a defective person.  none of that is easy to deal with.

it’s a heavy burden to bear.  i’ve been committed, on my own admit, and not, a decent number of times.

i spent my 20s not being honest with my psychiatrists about my symptoms, because i was afraid i would become what i feared the most.

like my father, who was very ill, and schizophrenic.  if his peers, my family, can’t deal with me putting it all out there, i’m sorry (not really, honesty)  but it’s not your right to decide how open i am about my own life and history.. the time for casual silence has long been over.  by any measures, our community and culture have taken the cowards way out, leaving others in need  to be alone while we pretend everything is ok as long as the food is good at our family events.

this has been taken out of the past generations hands, and it is now in our own.  to be available, to not shame, to not be ashamed of people because they were born with a mental illness.  to be there for them.

that is what family is about.

Call 1-800-273-8255. Available 24 hours everyday #SuicideAwareness

i’m 38, and it’s been a wild ride, but i’m still here, and so so grateful to be alive.  i have the love of family, and friends.  but it took a long time to get here, and many hassles.

but you know you want to stick around, however painful it is.  or you wouldn’t be here still.

i suffered in my self imposed sheathe, and so do others.  i’m no sun, but maybe i can be a streetlight?

you can do it too. please, don’t do it on your own.  that era is over.

❤, Jes

I used a paper towel to clean up a mess. Now my daughter steals tissue and pretends to clean messes with them — her face determined, gaze steady. I want her to see me do cool stuff to copy the cool stuff I do! Today was kind of a shocker. I wasn’t feeling happy but I got out her paints anyway and to my surprise she WANTED to paint! She picked out colors by herself! It was amazing and put me in a great mood. An afternoon well spent.

I started doodling Henri during my two and a half week stay at mental hospitals. After that I went to a three month residential treatment facility where I created daily comics of my mental health journey using Henri. Drawing Henri has given me something to look forward to in my darkest hours. It has also helped me process and communicate what I experience when I so often cannot find the words to describe all of the emotions or lack of from bipolar disorder. It is my art therapy and emotional/mental outlet.

P

Sometimes things get too intense, too overwhelming and you have to find your way back. It didn’t used to matter (to me) before I was a mother, but now I want to be present for my daughter. This where setting goals and evaluating my expectations for other stuff comes in handy.

I made a daily list of the things I need to accomplish every day to get me in a better place. This includes things like water intake, exercise and what time I take my medicine. Usually I don’t have to write everything down— but I’m overwhelmed and need the daily focus.

I also make sure those closest to me know I’m having an issue. This is always a humbling experience but I need the friendship and understanding.

So I don’t miss moments like this:

💕💕💕💕It’s a bitty basket. 💕💕💕💕

Recently, in my little funk, I’ve been practicing a lot of avoidance behavior. This means going days without talking to everyone I don’t live with, and a side effect for that is thinking people are mad at me.

I’m talking about believing everyone is actively hating me — from the butcher at the grocery to my best friend from high school.

Other than work through these ridiculous viewpoints with my therapist, it’s up to me to not let these thoughts bring me to my knees.

I’m creating more, I’m journaling more, I’m exercising more and I’m trying correct these thoughts with sane ones.

I know I have a touch of depression when several butterflies hatch at once and I’m not overjoyed. To be human is to have emotions that change, but when you’re stuck with the bummer ones it’s difficult to be active and thoughtful and think that you’ll change back. But if anything is a sign of change it’s the gorgeous caterpillars I love to raise. Here are some things that help me when I’m in a serious funk:

1. Tell someone. It feels good to be be open and you might hear some great advice. Plus, if it gets worse? That person will be able to advocate for you.
2. Try to do the activities that you love, just do them super slowly. Instead of flying through my garden or taking thousands of pictures of my daughter I took pictures of what I’m interested in very slowly. I knew I wasn’t going to love it because I can’t really love doing anything right now and that it would be good for me to try it slowly. The slow part of it is to show myself that I’m in some pain and that I’m taking it easy — it isn’t just a normal day, it’s a difficult day. It’s my way of telling myself, “I’m taking care of you.”
3. I eat a pretty clean diet but these moods make me want donuts. For me, it’s better if I don’t give in. It will just lead to more sadness if I keep eating donuts and fries. So what I do is eat really well. Instead of cheddar I’ll eat ghouda. I do treat myself but just with better products. I can get to the kind of depression where you can’t get yourself to the kitchen to eat so when I’m in this stage I know it will help that from happening if I’m drinking lots of water and healthy foods now.
4. Try to think of reasons of how this happened. I brainstormed and saw that my sleep has been off so maybe I need to change what time I take my medicine. You might need a med tune-up or to stop drinking or hanging around a particular person. Just try and think of what’s been making you unhappy recently. Look for patterns.
5. Get professional help. A therapist and a group therapy session are two great ideas for this stage. Maybe I’ll need a psychiatrist visit soon if I don’t start rebounding. It’s all about listening to your body.