OCTOBER 21 2015 RUSSIAN ROULETTE

I. Want. To. Feel. Or. Don’t. I??

I love the way my mind fucks me,,, oh so I try to breathe but inhale poison
The way it FEELS that I’m borne of hate
The lies that I tell myself. I. Just. Am.
I am beautiful, transient, infinity. The beginning ~ The END.
I am storming the palace, BEHIND the DOOR. SHAKING DREAMS, SHAKING THUNDERING NIGHTMARES. no QUIET in this house. YOU LIVE. I. DIE. SHHHHHHH….NO WINNERS, NO LIES

A Full Jar?

A Momma's View

Definitely one of my most favorite stories and life lessons. The lesson a philosophy professor taught his students:

A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, he wordlessly picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles roll

ed into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full…

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Coming Back to Life (Part 1)

Our Lived Experience

Today’s post is a particularly heart-rending one. The subject is absolutely not specific to parenthood where there’s mental illness involved, and it’s very much about motherhood universally. It’s brutally honest yet beautifully written. It’s also incredibly brave – by being so open with us, the author has made herself vulnerable, it’s a big risk to take emotionally. Usually we’d welcome debate in our comments; this time, if there’s any trolling, I will delete the comment/s as swiftly as possible. That said, I’m hoping for lots of comments. (blahpolar) 

Coming back to life

The road from Saldanha Bay to the Northern suburbs of Cape Town was a long one. For someone going through their fourth onset of depression this year, it was even longer. My husband and I were en route to a clinic I hadn’t  been to before, but was promised the support I needed. We stood outside the entrance of the clinic for…

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