person walking on road between trees
Photo by Rene Asmussen on Pexels.com

they must be tired of this
but they won’t let me go
they don’t feel the inky fog
enveloping me deep into my bones
they can’t feel the ache of exhaustion
in every fiber of my being
they don’t see the loop of film noir
unceasingly invading my brain
they don’t hear the invectives
reminding me of why
I need to go
run away
sleep with no dreams
and no awakening

but they won’t let me go



Secrets collide in the brain
building searing pressure
which struggles to escape
the confined space.

The activity heightens during the period of time
before sleep is able to lower the temperature.

Energy is dissipated
in rivulets through tear ducts
in sweat through small pores
in quiet whispers in the dark.

These small discharges aren’t enough.

Secrets smash together,
building momentum,
buffeting against teeth clamped shut,
lips tightly pressed together.

Even as the destructive energy
bursts through the final barrier
with screams of desperation,
the release is not enough.

Only the spoken word
can prevent the final,
destructive explosion
within the confines of the skull.

Adding to my arsenal

not this time

The insidious black fog
begins to roll back in.
She can see it from a distance.
She can feel its presence.

As it moves closer,
she stands taller.
And with a look of determination
etched on her face,
she picks up her weapons
and strides in to battle.

It will not defeat me,
Not this time.

For twelve weeks, starting in September, I’ll be learning how to use Dialectical Behavior Therapy to aid in my battle against mental illness. After a lifetime of fighting for my life, I refuse to give up now.

My arsenal is holistic, with weapons that are both traditional psychiatric treatments as well as alternative modalities. My army is made up of my friends and family. My determination is strong.