The BiPolar Pixie
This is a short poem I dug up from a darker point when I was dealing with abuse and alcohol issues.
Scratch my pretty face… 19 more words
1 day, 8 hours
Because I was in a really gooey mood the other day, I wrote a poorly scribed poem while floating around in a bubble bath (my cure-all and truest addiction). 103 more words
2 days, 5 hours
I’ve been on an up-swing, lately.
I must confess that it’s rather nice when this happens. I’ve been able to think and react to things rationally for the most part. 790 more words
2 days, 6 hours
Conversations with a Toddler
Toddler: “Mum, do butterflies breathe?”
Mum: “Yes, they do M.”
Mum: “Through their noses. They have very small noses.”
5 days, 18 hours
I’M so sick of watching our best players play their last down in a uniform other than ours. And don’t hand me that “One day contract” BS. 426 more words
1 week, 1 day
It’s only a few hours after my first entry and I’m still anxious.
This is less about my almost-relationship and more about what it’s like to be inside my head. 428 more words
I’m having a hard time again.
I picked a fight with Chase last night…or at least it feels like I did. There is still a part of me that feels mildly–if not solidly–justified. 435 more words