~*That Dark Place*~

When your alone, in the dark, locked up inside a place you don’t want to be….you try to find meaning. You try to find hope. You try to find hope anywhere and everywhere. You start looking in places you never even knew existed before. Before all of this suffocating darkness found you.

You’ll dig into the most darkest, abysmal places inside your erratic, beating heart. Every little nook and cranny. It’s a never ending game of hide-n-seek, that just won’t let up and play fair.

The darkness can start to make you feel crazy. You will start to conjure up outlandish stories about yourself on why and how you got to such an extraordinary place to begin with. You start to think, Where did this all go wrong? Why can’t I find the courage and strength to keep moving on? It seems like every other human being on this planet is doing just that, and they seem to be doing just fine. They’re coping. What do they have that I don’t have? And where can I find that?

There are times when my voice seems so silent, so shut up from all of this pain, so much so that I feel like it will suffocate me alive. How do I find this feeling called “hope”? And if I do find it…..will I get any better? Do I want to get better? It appears to become all that I’ve known now….

I hope below gives anyone who may stumble upon my little page, an ounce of hope. I’m still searching. But I hope to find hope. No matter how fantastical right now I feel that the idea may be.


Speaker: Angelo Ajayi 


“I believe what truly humbles us in this life is, the realization is that we’re all effected the same way. We’re hurt in different places and we’re broken by different things, but all of it effects us the same way.

Lost hope can destroy faith, a broken heart can wound a spirit, abuse can damage the soul. No one is immune from the ups and downs of life. They are all ones and all’s or nothing at all’s of life. The excitements of it all; the build ups and the crashes, the moments of joy, the painful nights, the fights with emotions and the emptiness that seduces.

You don’t get to skip over that. We’re all touched by it, we’re all broken by it.

Things happen. Plans fall apart. People leave. Faith crumbles. Enthusiasm dries up. And we’re effected. And then sometimes we’re effected, but nothing at all happened. We just feel this way.

We’re not built to be strong all the time. We’re not built to be brave all the time. Life gets hard and you run out of options.

You end up on your knees, praying to a God who won’t talk back. Plus, you cry into a pillow, that can’t squeeze back. You search for yourself at the end of a needle because, the pills didn’t help and the liquor made it worse.

All you want is validation, but you can’t find it. You close your eyes, you just want to go deep, to feel something, but it never comes. And all you know is that something in you wants to die.

That’s real. That’s life.

Sometimes you touch that place; you never thought you’d get there, you never thought you’d sink there, but you’re drowning. You never thought it would be you, but your crying. You don’t know how you got there, but you’re barely hanging on. And the closer you get to the edge, the harder it is to talk. You’ve disconnected, your scared to unplug.

It’s like a door shuts behind you and there you are screaming for your mother in the dark. But she can’t hear you. So you scream louder and it only gets darker.

I know you think there is no hope. I know you believe you have nothing left but, stay with me. Stay with me….because there is something in the human spirit, that refuses to be conquered. There is something in the human spirit that refuses to die.

I don’t know what it is, but in the dark, it responds. In the dark, it calls to you. “In the dark, it rages and rages against the dying of the light.”

It’s calling to you and I know there is something left in you. I know there is something else in you. I believe that.

But I know the other side of darkness, isn’t always light. I’ve been here long enough to know the other side of defeat, isn’t always victory. I can tell you right now, that on the other side of tears, and hurt; isn’t always smiles of redemption. This this is hard. This thing hurts. And most of the time, after the darkness, comes the pain.

The truth is, the pressure can kill you, if you let it. And if you fight it, there’s going to be pain. But that’s the price you pay, to fight pain. That’s the price you pay, to come out on the other side. That’s the price you pay, to grow. Pain is work.

Pain is digging into memories. Pain is confronting where you came from and what happened to you. Pain is dropping the “should of’s/could of’s” or “would-have-been’s”; and to start from where you are.

Pain isn’t the mistakes you make. Pain is accepting that you can’t fix them. Pain is, knowing that for you, the pressure doesn’t have to have a reason. It just is. It doesn’t have a cause. It just is. Decide to cradle life anyway.

Sometimes that’s all there is. That’s all we get. There’s no magic bullet, there’s no “cure all”. There’s only the chance to redefine our pain and call it “growth”. Because that’s where it starts. And that’s what is calling you in the dark. That’s what refuses to quit and grow. That’s the real you.

It doesn’t care what touched you. It doesn’t care what left you. It doesn’t care what kind of mess you turned your life into. It doesn’t care what you did. It doesn’t care if you think your broken. It just wants to grow. That’s the real you. It just wants to grow….

Growth is what we came here to do. Growth is who we are. Growth is redemptive; it heals. Growth is what drives life. Where there is no growth; you’ll find friction. And when you find friction, there’s chaos. Anxiety. Depression. Now these are expressions of chaos.

Some people suffer their entire lives. And the fact is, depression is a part of how we live our lives but, some of us get stuck there. The space between getting stuck in depression and getting to growth is called, “friction”.

When you’re stuck, you’ve got to get through friction before you see growth. Friction is uncomfortable. Friction is asking for help. Friction is learning to put yourself first. Friction is being brave enough to go beyond your reasons and check yourself into a recovery center. Friction doesn’t feel good.

Sometimes, it feels like your letting your friends and your family down.  Sometimes friction feels like failure. But friction is one step closer to growth. And that’s what you need. That’s what’s calling you.

You see…..I know the feeling. I know what it’s like to watch your entire world implode. I know what it feels like, to get hit hard in a place you thought you mastered. An area you thought you were safe. I know what it feels like, to watch people walk away from you. That stop believing in you.

I know what that feels like.

I know what it feels, to think you may never get back up again. I know what it is, to want to give up. I know what that broken record in your mind sounds like. I know how loud it gets. I know how long you’ve been asking yourself, “Why me?”.

And this is all there is. I know what that noise is telling you. But, here’s a little truth…

It’s just noise.

It sounds real. It feels real…

But it’s just noise.

The truth is….you can choose. The truth is, you’re not broken. The truth is, there’s still something here for you to do. The truth is, there’s a love out here for you. The truth is, someone still needs you. Someone still needs your smile. Someone still wants your arms around them. Someone, somewhere, is waiting for you.

That’s the truth.

The truth is, you are not alone. But you have got to make that pain count.

You want some truth? Well, here it is…..

Pain gets old. Pain gets exhausting. The truth is, the only thing that matters is, “what are you going to do next.” What you do next, is the only thing that matters.

Life is about movement. Even in the dark. Even if it’s just one terrifying, determined step at a time.

Where you are, isn’t who you are.

Who you are, is whoever you say you are.

And I say there is something else. Something more. And if pain is the price, then pay it full. Don’t give up.

Don’t give up.”











Food for thought, for the “worried” mind.

Sometimes, our own worst enemy can be just fragmented pieces of an overactive mind. Figments of our very own imagination. The angel sitting on one shoulder…..while the devil is laughing on the other.

For all the moments that I’m left with this quiet/loud mind of mine…..I ponder at times, if I will go insane. And if so, how long will it take.

Food for thought, for the “worried” mind.

Alan Watts, “The Mind“:

“What is a mind in the grip of vicious circles? Well, one of the most obvious instances that we all know, is the phenomena of worry.


The doctor tell you that you have to have an operation. And that has been set up so automatically everybody worries about it. But since worrying takes away your appetite and your sleep, It’s not good for you. But you can’t stop worrying and therefor you get additionally worried that you are worrying. And then furthermore, because that is quite obscured, and you’re mad at yourself because you do it, you are worried because you worry, because you worry. That is a vicious circle.

So now, can you allow your mind to be quiet? Isn’t it difficult… because the mind seems to be like a monkey. Jumping up and down and jabbering all the time. Once you’ve learned to think, you can’t stop. And an enormous number of people, devote their lives to keeping their minds busy and feel extremely uncomfortable with silence.

When you’re alone, nobody is saying anything and there’s nothing to do……there’s worry. This lack of distraction. I’m left alone with myself and I want to get away from myself. I’m always wanting to get away from myself. That’s why I go to the movies, that’s why I read mystery stories, that’s why I go after girls, or anything that you do. You get drunk or whatever…..

I don’t want to be with myself.

I feel……queer.

So well, why do you wanna run away from yourself? What’s so bad about it? Why do you want to forget this? Why do you want to become this way?

Because you are addicted to thoughts. This is a drug. A very dangerous one. Compulsive thinking going on and on and on and on… all.. the.. time. It’s a habit.

So, there’s a difficulty about stopping that activity. And you really have to stop it, if you want to be sane. Because, If I talk all the time, I don’t hear what anyone else has to say. Then I’ll end up in the situation that I have nothing to talk about, but my own talking.

So in exactly the same way….if I think all the time, I won’t have anything to think about, except thoughts. So in order to have something to think about, there are times when you simply must stop thinking.

Well…..how do you do that…?

The first rule is, don’t try to. Because if you do, you will be like someone trying to make rough waters smooth with a flat iron. And all that will do is stir it up.

So in the same way as a muddy, turbulent pool quiets itself when left “alone, you have to know when to leave your mind alone.

It will quiet itself.”

-Alan Watts


“How the worst moments in our lives, can make us who we are”.

“We don’t seek the painful experiences that hue our identities. But we seek our identities, in the wake of painful experiences. We cannot bare a pointless torment. But we can endure a great pain, if we believe that it is purposeful.”

“Ease makes less of an impression on us than struggle. We could have been ourselves without our delights, but not without the misfortunes that drive our search for meaning. ‘Therefore, I take pleasure in infirmities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” -Saint Paul, Corinthians 2.

As the days progress, I find it to be more and more challenging to write about myself. What can I say that hasn’t been said before? There comes a point, where all the thoughts I think and the words I say, become almost meaningless. So I’ve been searching for my words through others.

I came across a beautiful speech by Andrew Solomon. He is a man who has suffered many obstacles. One of them being Depression. He goes around the country, trying to shed light on such a terrible illness that is affecting way too many people around this world. He lectures on the symptoms, thoughts, emotions, daily challenges that one can go through and how it affects everyone around them, leaving a devastating path in its wake. He has also written a couple of books that are profoundly inspirational, which is helping many on such a taboo topic, on a daily basis.

The one lecture I came across of his was called, “How the worst moments in our lives, makes us who we are“.  He describes the lives of others he has met along the way in his life, and shares his unique stories of his self journey, in return. It’s all about the “inner conflict” we have within ourselves. In whichever form, shape or thought pattern, that is unique to you. He gives us examples, on how we can try to prevail from our inner destruction that some of us create individually. Below is the dialog that takes place at a “Ted Talks” speech he was lecturing at.

Andrew Solomon:

“As a student of adversity, I’ve been struck over the years by how some people with major challenges, seem to draw strength from them. And I’ve heard the popular wisdom that that has to do with finding meaning. And for a long time, I thought the meaning was out there. Some great truth waiting to be found.

But over time, I’ve come to find that the truth is irrelevant. We call it, finding meaning, but we might better call it, forging meaning.

My last book was about how families manage to deal with varies kinds of challenging, or unusual offspring. And one of the mothers I interviewed, who had two children with multiple severe disabilities said to me, “People always give us these little sayings like, “God doesn’t give you anymore then you can handle.” But children like ours, are not preordained as a gift. They are a gift because, that’s what we have chosen.” We make those choices all our lives.

When I was in second grade, Bobby Finkle had a birthday party and invited everyone in our class, but me…

My mother assumed there must have been some sort of error and she called Mrs. Finkle, who said that “Bobby didn’t like me and didn’t want me at his party”. And that day, my mom had taken me to the zoo and out for a hot fudge sunday.

When I was in seventh grade, one of the kids on my school bus nicknamed me “Percy” as a short hand for my demeanor. And sometimes, he and his covert’s would chant that provocation the entire school bus ride. Forty five minutes up, forty five minutes back.

Percy. Percy. Percy. Percy.

When I was in eighth grade, our science teacher told us that, “All male homosexuals develop “fecal incontinence” because of the trauma to their anal sphincter. (Andrew Soloman is openly gay and is an activist in LGBT rights, especially when it comes to depression and anxiety.)

I graduated high school, without ever going to the cafeteria, where I would have sat with the girls and been laughed at for doing so, or sat with the boys and had been laughed at for being a boy who should be sitting with the girls.

I survived that childhood through a mix of avoidance and endurance. What I didn’t know then, and do know now, is that avoidance and endurance can be the entryway to forging meaning.

After you forged meaning, you need to incorporate that meaning into a new identity. You need to take the trauma’s and make them part of who you’ve come to be and you need to fold the worst events of your life, into a narrative of triumph. Evincing a better self, in response to things that hurt.

One of the other mothers I interviewed when I was working on my book, had been raped as an adolescent and had a child following that rape, which had thrown away her career plans and damaged all of her emotional relationships. But when I met her, she was 50, and I said to her, “Do you often think about the man who raped you?” And she said, “I used to think about him with anger, but now only with pity.”

And I thought she meant pity because, he was so unevolved, as to have done this terrible thing.

And I said, “Pity?” She then said, “Yes. Because he has a beautiful daughter and two beautiful grandchildren and he doesn’t know that.  And I do. So as it turns out… I’m the lucky one.” (Many would argue her statement. But you have to see, I mean really see, all that she has gone through and how she has grown and moved on for the better, because of her unfortunate tragedy.)

Some of our struggles are things we are born to. Our gender… our sexuality. ..our race…our disability…And some are things that happen to us. Being a political prisoner…being a rape victim…being a Katrina survivor…

Identity involves, entering a community to draw strength from that community and to give strength there too. It involves substituting. Nothing like… I am here but I have cancer. But rather, I have cancer and I am here. (Had to wrap my head around a couple times for that one)

“But we are ashamed.” (Stigma) “We can’t tell our stories.”

Our stories are the foundation of our identity. The meaning of Forge is to: ‘Build Identity”. That became my mantra. Forging meaning, is about changing yourself. Building identity, is about changing the world.

All of us with stigmatized identities, face this question daily. “How much do we accommodate society, by constraining ourselves, and how much do we break the limits of what constitutes a valid life?”

Forging meaning and building identity, does not make what was wrong right…..

It only makes what was wrong….precious.

In January of this year, I went to Myanmar to interview political prisoners. And I was surprised to find them less bitter than I had anticipated. Most of them had knowingly committed the offenses that landed them in prison and they had walked in with their heads held high and they walked out, still, with their heads still held high.

Many years later, a doctor and a leader in human rights activists, who had nearly died in prison and spent many years in solitary confinement, told me she was “grateful to her jailers”. For the time she have had to think, for the wisdom she had gained, for a chance to hone her meditation skill (Andrew Solomon smiles brightly). She had sought meaning and made her travail into a crucial identity.

This doctor then said, about the reform process going on in their country, “We Burmese (a member of the largest ethnic group of Burma (Myanmar) in Southeast Asia) are noted for our tremendous grace under pressure. But we also have “grievance under glamour”. The fact there have been these shifts and changes, doesn’t erase the continuing problems in our society, that we learn to see so well, while we were in prison.

And I understood her to be saying, The concessions confer only a little humanity, where full humanity is due. That crumbs, are not the same as a place at the table. Which is to say, you can forge meaning and build identity, and still be mad as hell.

I’ve never been raped. And I’ve never been in anything remotely approaching as a Burmese prison. But as a gay American, I’ve experienced prejudice and even hatred. And I’ve forged meaning. And I built identity. Which is a move I’ve learned from people who have experienced far worse deprivation than I’ve ever known.

In my own adolescence, I went to extreme lengths to try to be straight. I even enrolled myself into something called “Sexual Surrogacy Therapy”. In which people I was encouraged to call “Doctors”, prescribed what I was encouraged to call “Exercises”, with woman I was encouraged to call “Surrogates”. Who were not exactly “Prostitutes”, but who were also not exactly “Anything Else”. (You get chuckles of laughter and clapping from the audience. This poor guy!)

My particular favorite, was a blonde woman from the deep south, who eventually admitted to me that she was really a necrophiliac and had taken this job after she had gotten in trouble down at the morgue. (Andrew has his hands clasped behind his back, smiling shyly, looking downwards and you hear more laughter.)

These experiences eventually allowed me to have some happy physical relationships with woman, for which I’m grateful. But I was at war with myself. And I dug terrible wounds into my own psyche.

We don’t seek the painful experiences, that hue our identities. But we seek our identities, in the wake of painful experiences. We cannot bare a pointless torment. But we can endure a great pain, if we believe that it is purposeful.

“Ease makes less of an impression on us than struggle. We could have been ourselves without our delights, but not without the misfortunes that drive our search for meaning. ‘Therefore, I take pleasure in infirmities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” -Saint Paul, Corinthians 2.

To be continued…….













As many of you know, I suffer from severe depression. Along my journey with depression, I’ve somehow accumulated a new disorder, although not diagnosed from a professional (even though it doesn’t take a genius for this one). I suffer horribly from Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD) and haven’t left the house in many months. Not even to my front porch. I’m totally self reliant on my family, which means I am extremely grateful for them, for they have put up with more than any family should normally go through. It’s a funny thing how SAD just crept up on me. (Oh, and by the way, what a fitting acronym for it?) If anyone outside my box even tries to directly communicate with me, I just seem to shut down and hide.

But this post isn’t about my anxiety. Today I want to share with you about a beautiful journey that I took into the woods today. Visually guided of course, by a fantastic 30 minute session. It’s labeled, “Inner Journey Guided Meditation”, by New Horizon. I sadly don’t know anymore about this lovely lady, then that she goes by “New Horizon”. But listening to her soothing voice guide me across a desert, then into a beautiful forest followed by a calm, trickling meadow, help set my pacing mind at ease. And let me tell you… it was very humbling.

She gently guides you with her sooth, delicate voice and with the sounds of the environment that you find yourself surrounded in. It’s almost as if she is taking your hand, quite literally and imaginary, to help describe the journey that you are getting ready to embark on. All you have to do is, mentally pop up a screen projector in your mind and allow her to weave the scene together into a beautiful movie. I was able to let go (although, not completely, but maybe in the future) of all the burdens that I have been carrying along with me, in my term of turmoil.

Guided meditations have been booming in the last past couple of years and many therapists have been highly recommending to their patients, especially those suffering from mental depression and anxiety disorder, to give it a shot to help alleviate the tension we often times accumulate, sometimes unknowingly, into ourselves.

New Horizons said it perfectly:

Guided meditation is a form of meditation where an individual is verbally guided into a state of consciousness either by a person’s live voice or by a recording of a voice. This process and practice of meditation requires an individual to follow verbal instructions that teach the individual how to relax the entire body, clear the mind, concentrate on breathing, and focus one’s awareness and attention. What one chooses to explore when meditating all depends on the individual’s intentions, needs, and level of interest and passion.

We create our own guided meditations to help people to relax from the strains of every day life and to cleanse on the levels of body, mind and soul. They can be a great source of healing.”

I highly recommended meditation for everyone. That includes all you macho guys out there too! Don’t worry. You don’t have to dress up in little skinny yoga pants, wear a “man bun” or sit in silly poses (such as, “Downward-Facing Dog”) in front of a circle somewhere outdoors, with a large group of strangers. You can do meditation right in your very own home. Even secretly if you would like for that matter. Anywhere that you can find comfortable, that allows you to be idle and sit still or lie for a lengthy period of time. A place free from all distractions. There are even 10 minute meditations out there too, if you would rather prefer that. There are also some meditations out there that can last up to an hour.

My ultimate favorite meditations are the “Hypnosis Meditations”. Although, I’m beginning to think I’m not very susceptible to hypnosis. But that doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop doing it. There are too many incredible stories out there that motivate me to continue on to try. Below, I will put the script that is used in “Inner Journey Guided Meditation | Flight to Freedom | Releasing Guilt and Negativity”. Then I’ll post a direct and free YouTube video below that and leave it up to you, to see if you would like to go on a self discovering journey through your heart, soul and mind. It’s not everyone’s “cup of tea”. But,

“You’ll never know or see a beautiful gift, unless you try to open the box.” – Me


Inner Journey Guided Meditation | Flight to Freedom | Releasing Guilt and Negativity.


“Imagine yourself surrounded by a beautiful bubble of golden light. And watch it, as it swirls gently around your body. Feel the warmth it brings to you. Feel it, as it touches your skin. This light is protecting you on your life’s journey. And this light will keep you safe. All is well in your world.

Now imagine you are walking across a harsh desert landscape. And the sun is very high in the sky. And you find it difficult to see your way, because the light is so bright. The sun is very hot upon your body and your skin feels sticky. On your back, is a very heavy sack filled with sand. And your back aches with the weight of it. With each step you take, you feel as if your feet are sinking down into the sand and it gets harder to walk.

It’s so heavy…..

So heavy…

Somehow though, you feel as though you deserve this. You feel it’s because of something you said or you did. And the lingering feeling of guilt, weighs heavily your shoulders. Weighing heavily on your mind.

You have been holding onto this guilt, for a long time now…..

Too long…

And you feel as if you’ll never be free of this terrible weight. Never be free of the burden you carry with you.

But you can be free of it.

It’s so easy….

To be free.

You carry on walking through the harsh desert, feeling the searing heat upon your body. And with each step you take, it becomes harder to walk. Harder to lift your feet out of the sand.

You walk a little further, when you see on the far horizon, something green, glinting in the harsh sunlight. At first, it’s too far away to make out clearly what it is you are seeing. But as your eyes start to adjust, eventually you can see that it’s a hilly landscape covered with pine trees. And as you draw nearer to the landscape, you start to notice things you couldn’t see before. You can see the tall, majestic pines standing out against the blue sky.

Can you see them…?

As you come closer still, you begin to smell the wonderful heady aroma of pine fill your nostrils. You keep walking and finally you come to the pine covered hills. You can see a path meandering its way through the woods beyond deep into the woods. And there is a wonderful, refreshing feeling in the air as you walk. Pine trees are blooming, birds are singing and you can even hear the buzz of the insects as they fly past you. In the distance, you can hear running water. As you walk closer, the sound gets louder.

Can you hear it…?

Can you hear the flow of the water, the energy of the water.

You see running across your path, a wide shallow stream. There are rocks in the stream and the sounds you heard were the sounds of water splashing over them.

But still, the lingering feeling of guilt, is weighing heavily on your mind.

You’ve walked a long way and you are tired now. So you sit by the stream and listen to the water gently washing over the rocks. The water looks cool and calm. It looks so clear and inviting.

You sit down on a comforting, sponge-like grass, to rest your weary body for awhile. You take off your shoes and place your hot, tired feet in the stream. And it feels so good. Feels so refreshing and cool.

As you sit there, you listen to the sound of running water. And you can hear the birds. There are lots of birds. You can hear the rustle of the gentle breeze moving through the branches of the pine trees. And you decide to have a drink from the stream.

You place your hands in the cool water and take a long drink. It’s so refreshing and it’s so cool. As you place your hands in for a second time, a shadow falls across you. You look up and see before you a woman. A beautiful woman, wearing a long dress the color of the sky and she smiles at you.

She takes a seat besides you and asks you, “Why do you look so sad?”

You answer her……

You don’t know why, but you tell her the truth, the whole truth, of how you are really feeling.

You sit with her for a few moments and unburden your soul to her. You tell her things that you have never told anyone before. Things that you have not even admitted to yourself. And the whole time, she smiles at you. She makes you feel so safe, so calm, so very, very peaceful.

So stay for awhile and talk to her. Tell her what is on your mind. Lift your soul and free yourself from these burdens you put upon yourself.

(Here you are given approximately six minutes of time with the mysterious woman in blue. It is enough time to allow you to reflect your emotions and to release all the burdens and thoughts, that you may be carrying with you on a daily basis. All the while you can hear birds chirping in the background, along with a flowing stream of cool water and some subtle, light music in the background.)

It’s nearly time for her to go now. But before she does, she tells you that, “You do not need to feel guilty anymore. You do not need to feel ashamed of anything you said, or did.” She tells you that, “If anything you do and say, comes from a place of love and from your heart, then you need not to feel guilty. You need not to feel ashamed, as long as it comes from your heart.” She tells you, “All you have to do is to be kind. Be kind to those who love you. Be kind to those who hurt you, for they are carrying heavy weights in their hearts, just as you were.”

She stands up now and takes her leave of you. And she smiles at you, one last time. And then she is gone.

You realize that, the heavy weight you were carrying on your back, has been lifted. It too, has gone now.  And you feel so much lighter. Your body feels lighter. Your heart feels lighter. And your very soul feels lighter. You feel so peaceful. So calm. So relaxed now. All of your tension and worries have gone.

You realize that, you didn’t get the chance to say thank you to this beautiful woman. But you say it anyway. You whisper it, hoping she knows and can hear you. And as if the sound is floating on the breeze….you clearly hear her say, “You are welcome.”

The rest of the dialog helps to guide you naturally out of the beautiful world our story teller has amerced us in. “Back to our physical surrounding, slowly and gently awakening us”.

What a beautiful meditation from someone who clearly has a beautiful soul, heart and voice. I hope you get the chance to listen to her and share your experiences to those in need.












Once Your Heart And Soul Learns How To Break

Once your soul truly knows how to weep.

Or your heart learns the feeling of being broken.

It can never beat rhythmically as it once did before.

You will be left with pieces,

Never completely put back together.

Like a picture missing a puzzle piece.

Wind will whistle through its cracks,

Movement will begin to shift in its foundation,

And your soul never functions the same again.

Your heart starts to form scars,

Resembling a faded roadmap,

With no reprieve for that lost and weary road traveler.

It will leave you bereft and breathless.

And you will begin to question reality.

Your mind will relive every tragic moment,

And you will be left to drown in your own tears.


Once your heart and soul learns how to break

You just become another tragic story.






Don’t cry over burnt toast

I can’t tell you how incredibly frustrating it is, to actually get out of bed and to motivate your body to act like a normal human being, like every other person on this planet is doing, from what seems to me, effortlessly. Just going to the kitchen to make a simple piece of toast turned out to be an exhausting battle. I was literally trying to will myself out of bed for two hours, full on tug-a-war on whether if it was worth it, in order to keep the hunger pains in my tummy away. Just one piece of damn toast.

I eventually made it to the kitchen. I decided to make four pieces and put them in a plastic container to save for later. Just so I wouldn’t have to go through that grueling process again. As I put my butter on, I thought I would put some sugared cinnamon on the toast, to try to give it some flavor. Opening the cupboards I saw we had cinnamon, but no more “cinnamon-sugar”, already to go and use. I’m ashamed on what I’m about to tell you next….

I started to cry. I broke down so incredibly hard, I almost couldn’t believe I was acting in this way. Right in front of family. I try so hard not to cry in front of them. I don’t want them to have to see me this way and to feel even more powerless then they already do. All over cinnamon-sugar? What is wrong with me?

It may sound so simply frivolous to cry over such a thing but, trying to understand the mind of a manic depressive is almost incomprehensible. All my whirling mind was thinking about was, I’m now going to have to go to the other cupboard, grab the sugar, open it, grab a teaspoon, grab another small container, open it, put the correct amount of cinnamon in it, put the correct amount of sugar in it, mix it up, taste it to make sure it’s probably balanced in flavor, put the sugar away, put the cinnamon away in the other cupboard, wash the utensils and finally, put it on your toast that you spent 2 hours in bed deliberating on whether you should get up and make in the first place.

I just finally accepted to accomplish getting out of bed. I had my mission targeted and reassured that I will feel better for it. So, when that obstacle came, my mind literally went into overload. An overload of emotions that came about that are so incredibly sensitive as it is. A feeling of an obstacle ahead, can leave me feeling like a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode with crying fits. And God am I ashamed of this. I was never this bad before. I feel like a rotten spoiled child, not getting what they want. But that really isn’t the case, I know deep down. I know now that, that certain area or part of my brain is very sensitive. Just one feather light touch of any sort of emotion, gets blown out of proportion ten fold.

So here I am now. Burnt toast covered in tears, laying in bed utterly exhausted. And no…I never did get that cinnamon concocted. All that silly drama for nothing.