Here and Now

I have been writing on this blog for about six years now, and I rarely go back through old posts, but I was looking for a poem, and came across a post that I had written a few days before my first suicide attempt. I shared it with my therapist this week. I cannot even count the number of times that she has told me that if I didn't allow myself to feel pain, I would also be unable to feel joy. I wasn't sure that I believed her, but I now realize that all of my suffering was caused by my attempts to deny my feelings. My feelings often overwhelm me, and the depth of my emotions can be frightening, but I'm grateful to be alive. I'm grateful that she didn't give up on me, because she was right...even with the pain, there is an abundance of joy, and I'm blessed to still be here to feel every bit of it.  Here is the post that I wrote~ I step through your door, into the safe familiarity of pictures and books...the window where I've watched the rain an...

Artwork by~ Gabriel Moreno Eight I was taken back to when I was eight years old.  I am sitting now  tall and strong... you would never know... I don't want to imagine an eight year old girl.  I squeeze my eyes tight,  so tightly that sparks of silver shatter the darkness,  and my breath becomes so ragged that I can't find an end or a beginning.  I open my eyes and focus on the spinning fan above me.  I tell myself I'm safe.  Over and over  until I am here once again.  She is tiny,   small and afraid.  Her eyes are large,  dark pools of fear.  I don't want to touch her.  I step away,  away,  away... When I find my way back into my breath,  my ribs are tired and sore.  I'm not sure where I am,  so I rub my fingers together until I can find my way into the room.  My head is tingling,  purple lights throbbing from the c...

Photograph by~ Lucy Reynolds Elevator Dreams I miss you as soon as I step outside your door Waiting for the elevator to open wide is lonely... only I am left to hear the echo of my voice lost inside the darkness I never want to let go but I do trying to be the first to pull away Quietly I apologize for everything I am not I am not yours... Angela Minard 2014© "I unhinge my wishes, stringing them back together with desperation and love and the thin barbed wire of longing until they take on the substance of poems." ~Sarah Elwell Photograph by~Lucy Reynolds

What does it mean to be comfortable in your skin? As someone who has both battled an eating disorder, and also have many friends who struggle, it is a common thing to say and to also hear. We think that if we could only be a certain weight, we would be "comfortable," but I will tell you that this is untrue. What we are uncomfortable with has nothing to do with the size of our bodies. What we are uncomfortable with is being present. It is impossible to find comfort when you are continuously running from yourself. How often do we sit with ourselves in silence, being still and aware? Today I took a yoga class with a teacher that I love, but don't often get to take classes from, and she said as we were settling into Downward Facing Dog, "Fill in the blank...I am grateful for...," and immediately I thought, "I feel grateful for my strong and resilient body." Oh, how I made my body suffer, trying to find some shred of comfort...my heart became weak, se...

Everything about me feels gloriously weighted to this world at the moment, and so I want to hold on... My eyelids are heavy, my heart thrumming deep and slow within my chest. I can even imagine my blood flowing through my veins, slow as a cool, lazy river. I need to sleep, but I easily and quickly slip into frightening dreams, and so I fight to stay awake. I hear your voice softly say, "Don't put so much meaning into your dreams. They are not real." The lines between reality and my dreaming world often seem blurred, and the nightmares that haunt me in my sleep linger along the parameters of my mind, waiting for an unguarded opportunity to remind me to be afraid. Each night as I prepare for bed, I say to myself, "You are safe, you are loved, you are protected." The only dreams that are real are waking dreams...the beautiful imaginings of a life only you can create.  Sweet dreams...