Pills and Faith

“And the doctors give the pills but the pills don’t have the will to take pain out the brain, they just make the brain insane”

I’m on this journey of coming off antidepressants, anti anxiety, and “pay attention” pills. 

Look at that sentence. I was on a pill to function for every aspect. I became a machine. I was effective and I executed tasks. 

And I woke up one day and realized I had no idea how to be me. Whatever that meant. I had (have) no idea what motivates me to keep going, and I have no idea how to look what breaks me in the eyes. 

I talk to the Lord about it… it feels like I’m talking to him every second of the day about it. It’s messed me up pretty bad… but that’s ok. 

I’ve always told others it’s OK to not be ok. Don’t stay there. Stay the night if you gotta but don’t set up camp. 

But I never even looked at the fact that I’ve ignored mine. Lord tells us that he will wipe our tears away. He never said there wouldn’t be tears. 

Here I am waking up for the past three days crying. Don’t ask me why cause I don’t know. I don’t. I’ll laugh in between sobs because there’s no reason, no prompt. 

Who is this person? I don’t show emotion like this. I’m always strong. I never want to put my pain for others to bear. That’s my burden alone. 

And yet… I’m crying. I’m sobbing. My face is wet. The tears stream down my neck to my chest. 

Doesn’t make sense. 

And my husband that I know, I KNOW, God sent into my life. This beautiful man. If you never met him, I’ll tell you he isn’t an emotional one. He has a huge heart, but what is, just is. He doesn’t let it weigh him down. 

This beautiful man looks at me last night and tells me to just cry. It’s ok. Maybe my medicine wouldn’t let me cry over the months when I needed to. And maybe these are those tears coming out now. Perhaps with interest. 

I’ll tell you I cried even harder. Cried till a headache was more important than my heartache. 

God knows what’s in our hearts. And maybe he’s telling me to stop running and just be still. 

When you can’t find an answer to a problem, perhaps it’s not a problem to be solved, but rather a truth to be accepted. 

It ain’t about how hard you hit… it’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward. About how much you can take and keep moving forward. 

The Lord is my solace, my home, my safe place. Without him I am nothing. He has made the lame walk, the broken whole, and He alone is who I follow. 

I will not depend upon a capsule of concoctions to be my sanity. I know right now the Lord is telling me to be still, there’s something he needs me to see through these tears. 

List of Wants

  • Have a stronger relationship with God (work in progress)
  • Enough money to confidently produce a child or 3 (HA!)
  • Be a mom with a career 
  • Get over this writers block and writers fear (I don’t even know how to progress with this one)
  • Get a tape recorder.. old school one.. because all my ‘good’ writing thoughts on characters or pieces are always when I’m half asleep, drunk, at work, or pooping. Come on man….
  • Publish a book
  • See Louis C.K live 
  • Own a 67 Chevy Impala
  • Stop apologizing for how I chose to survive 
  • Stop trying to meet society’s expectations 
  • Stop asking for the worlds permission instead of Gods!!
  • The ability to unabashedly laugh freely
  • Have more confidence in myself 
  • Be more honest with myself.. and be cool with all that brings. I’m me. 
  • Say I’m sorry, and screw pride. (Work in progress)
  • Learn French. Or Spanish. Both are so beautiful 
  • Make more lists of what I’m thankful for.
  • Tell my depression to go straight back to the hell from which it came. And take its little dog (anxiety) too. 

Into the forest I go

“And into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul”

I slip out of the real world, letting it drop from me like a silk robe.

I slide into the twilight of the trees. They’re always calling to me like a lost lover.
The moss beneath my feet. The dew on my toes.
Branches darkly reaching down and around their territory.
Embracing me.
I feel the life of the forest, so much bigger than I, whisper through the breeze.
The moon has risen and caresses my skin.
The moons light reflects off the water of the lake throwing itself onto my fingers and chest. Twinkling hues of purple and blue.

Could it be true?
That reflection.
She is me and I am her. But we are worlds apart.

Two beasts, and one is always howling, longing, scratching, and clawing its way to the surface of this place.
This in between.
I smile at the moon, throw my head back and laugh.

Hello old friend.

I am home.


Do you ever just
stare at the wall
almost like it has all the answers
but you have no expectations
It’s not really intriguing
But it brings you silence in your head
You think about camping when you were younger
throwing wet rocks into the lake
side stepping sharp rocks, like side stepping your jagged heart now
We use to stare at fires, now we just stare at walls.

There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home….

You know…. feeling empty is considered a blessing sometimes…and sometimes it’s only a blockade against our own feelings that we need to deal with. While I could pray that I felt nothing, away from this grief and anger…. But that would really be numbness, right? Numbness wears off like Novocain. You’re still left with damage and wounds after it’s gone.

Emptiness still leaves an ache in your chest…. Maybe that really why the tin man wanted a heart, he was empty. He longed for any and all feelings… Think about that for a moment. It’s not like the tin man had never been around those with hearts. He knew what it meant and he sought it out with diligence.

Coming to this realization really makes me feel more like the Lion. A coward.

Life will spin you around like a tornado, never really able to get your feet on the ground. Suddenly you’re confused on where you are and how these things came to be. And while there is no place like home, sometimes that tornado destroys home.

It’s okay to hurt, to rage, to mourn. We are all just wandering around trying to find a yellow brick road. We have brains in our heads, hearts in our chest, and courage in our spirit… the bravery to fight the good fight. Sometimes if we are really lucky, we get a little dog, too. All we have to do is tap into ourselves and find it within. And make it home to who we are really meant to be.

An Open Letter to the “Father” who walked out of my life

In the words of Queen Beyonce herself:

You’re everything I thought you never were
And nothing like I thought you could’ve been
But still you live inside of me
So tell me, how is that?
You’re the only one I wish I could forget
The only one I love to not forgive
And though you break my heart
You’re the only one
And though there are times when I hate you ’cause I can’t erase
The times that you hurt me and put tears on my face
And even now while I hate you, it pains me to say
I know I’ll be there at the end of the day
I don’t wanna be without you, babe
I don’t want a broken heart
Don’t wanna take a breath without you, babe
I don’t want to play that part
I know that I love you, but let me just say
I don’t wanna love you in no kind of way, no, no
I don’t want a broken heart
And I don’t want to play the broken-hearted girl
No, no, no broken-hearted girl
I’m no broken-hearted girl
There’s something that I feel I need to say
But up till now I’ve always been afraid
That you would never come around
And still I wanna put this out
You say you got the most respect for me
But sometimes I feel your not deserving of me
And still you’re in my heart
But you’re the only one
And, yes, there are times when I hate you, but I don’t complain
‘Cause I’ve been afraid that you would walk away
But I’ll have to stop it there, because he did. He walked straight out of that proverbial door without a glance back to his daughters. And man let me tell you…. I wish this could have been like in the movies – young girl watches her daddy in the rain, pack his belongings into a yellow taxi.
We weren’t so lucky. No, I got to experience my entire relationship with you boiled down to two stages: Absent, or Present (for however many months, no consistency in communication) but semi around, destructive and me just trying to earn your love.
I remember these so clearly: Maybe he’ll stop drinking if he just loved me, or if I did ___. Maybe he won’t get so angry if I ___. Maybe he’ll stop throwing things around if I ___. Maybe, just maybe he’ll call this month. Maybe if I go play nice with his new family (multiply this by 4) I’ll get to spend time with my dad.
Maybe he won’t destroy this marriage. Maybe he won’t be destructive to himself and those who love him. Maybe he’ll really stay on his medicine this time and won’t drink (this last one, man that’s the one that got me this time).
Even now I can’t tell you why I seeked your attention and affection so vehemently. I can be thankful that this destructive and co dependent relationship has met its end. Doesn’t mean you didn’t leave me in pieces on the ground. But don’t you dare pretend you did this for my well-being. You aren’t that selfless. No, see, when you told me (via text message, mind you) that you no longer wanted anything to do with me on that horrible day (November 12, 2016 in case you forgot), you did it out of spite, to hurt me, and yeah, you succeeded. I was totally blindsided. Out of ALL the ways you’ve hurt me over my lifespan, I never predicted this one. Thought it was too low, even for you. And with 4 months before my wedding!
I wish I could say I stole your mothers jewels or something… at least then I would have understood.
No, I (and my sister) sat in the hospital worried about your mother, our me-me. Whilst planning a funeral for another grandparent.
You were nasty and yelled at us that night, I wrote it off as fear for your mother. You threatened us, holding your relationship with us over our heads if we didn’t show up to the hospital…. as if we wouldn’t have shown up… Of course we showed up, not because of your threats or yelling or pure uncontrolled anger, we showed up because that’s our grandmother and we love her. She’s family. And there is no breaking of that bond. We aren’t as heartless as you paint(ed) us to be. The fact you wouldn’t hug me, and anytime you looked at us… it was as if you hated us. I needed my father, I was scared too. But you shoved us away and treated us as if we had somehow been the reason she was in the hospital. You made me physically sick, I mean literally.
Two days later I receive a text from you.. and to cut it short I shared my perspective, that you hurt me. You shared your desire to have nothing to with me any longer. A TEXT message… that’s what your youngest child got. You didn’t even bother reaching out to your eldest daughter…
I hurt because I FOUGHT for so many years to keep some relationship with you, after all the drunk driving, the physical and mental abuse… and suddenly, just one day out of the blue, you throw me away like a cigarette butt. I tried for so many years to just make you love me. Choose me. BEGGED you to stop destroying yourself, your new lives, me… It never was enough… I guess it never would have been enough.
You and I both know that what you are doing to your wife isn’t right, it isn’t healthy… and I am terrified for her. I’m terrified that you could destroy a relationship between her and her daughter. She ignores how you act, how you treat her because she loves you… and you destroy her and her belongings in return (and lie about it). Well, daddio, what is done in the dark will be brought to the light. The Lord promises us that. I hope you do better, she deserves better.
I hate that we can’t have a healthy relationship and that I couldn’t make you love me. I hate that my babies will never meet my biological father, never see your good side (I mean, you really do have a GREAT good side). But I will NEVER let you hurt them the way you hurt my mother, my sister, myself…the list goes on. No, they will never feel that heartache that leaves craters in your soul.
That’s it… that is all I’ve got. No plot twist. No happy ending here. Just words that were threatening to choke the life out of me if I didn’t get them on paper and in the open. For everyone to see my deepest fear unfolded before my eyes and my chest ripped open…
I doubt you’ll ever read this letter…
I, nor my husband, will ever destroy our children the way you did yours.
With that said… I’ll heal.
You do not win. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.
The end.
Song during my writing:
Tin Man – Miranda Lambert.