I want to go away.
Not forever.
Or maybe I do.
I don’t know.
I can never figure it out.
That’s just how Bipolar II is.
But let’s switch it back.
I just want to go away.
Just… away.
Somewhere I can forget
how heavy it is
to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders
that have only known war.

Somewhere for a few days…
where peace doesn’t feel like a stranger
and silence isn’t so loud.
No phones.
No “Are you okay?”
No pretending that I am.

I want to be surrounded
by smiling strangers
and trees.
To walk freely,
barefoot,
without judgment sticking to my skin
like old shame.

To just
breathe
again.
To remember what it means
to exist
without performance.

I want to learn how to love myself again.
Because God knows,
no one else can do it for me.

Love the parts I hide.
The flaws I’ve memorized like scripture.
The curves,
the stretch marks —
those sacred etchings of survival
on a body that has carried
five lives.

Five.
One I chose to let go.
One, God took before I ever held him.
And the rest…
still echo in my ribcage
when I try to sleep.

I need to come to terms
with all of it.
Every scar.
Every breakdown.
Every unfinished goodbye.

I tried to leave this world once.
I whispered goodbye,
but Life?
Life whispered back:
“Not yet.”
So here I am.

Still standing.
Still aching.
Still searching
for a reason.

Maybe that reason
is me.

Maybe I am not a failure,
but a field
waiting to bloom again.

I just need to learn
how to do this thing
called living
from the beginning.

Not to fight.
Not to fake it.
Just to be.
Just to live.

Just… to be me.

That evening,
The clock stopped.
Not at midnight,
Not a time neat enough to mark an end,
But 11:37 p.m.

The second hand frozen mid-fall,
As if time was holding its breath,
As if the universe had leaned in
To watch me.

The bottle lay empty,
Pills untouched beside the bed,
Lined like soldiers,
Waiting for my silent command
To dissolve the noise inside.

Then, my phone buzzed.
No call, no voice I expected,
Just a single notification
From a weather app:

Severe thunderstorm warning: take shelter immediately.

I sat frozen.
The absurdity settled deep in my bones.
No angels, no omens,
Only a loud, deliberate interruption.
Just a cold, precise warning to the world,
While my own storm continued to brew inside.

Outside, the sky held its breath too.
No thunder, no wind,
Only the ringing of those words.
Hanging in the stillness,
Too measured to be random,
Too sharp to be ignored.

I did not take shelter that night,
But I did stay.
Because sometimes,
The storm’s end is not a thunderclap,
But the slow unwinding of tension.

And maybe, just maybe,
This storm inside me
Could finally begin to pass too.

I was in my first year of college, ready to take on the world before me
I found myself a job and was about to play my first game of rugby
My family was cheering me on and I was about to make a score
It was only a matter of seconds before my whole body was on the floor

Three ligaments in my knee now torn nice and clean
The job I was about to start was no longer in my routine
I would spend the next nine months without work and trying to heal
Wondering why this happened to me is what I would constantly feel

When my body finally recovered, it was time to find work again
I applied for jobs every single day, up to nine or ten
Hearing back from just one, Nike decided to give me a shot
Working retail at the mall was the only real chance that I got

I found friends and an income which seemed like a win to me
We even took a trip to the Dominican Republic, and I felt so free
With only 2 rooms to share, I didn’t want to start a fight
I sat back and let my friends decide where to spend the night

Six of eight people went into the room with the bunk beds
The other bedroom had a queen, which would be for two heads
She had the same idea, so she is my roommate for the week
What a coincidence we had the same thought without saying a peep

The late nights talking or the pressured kiss may have been it
Something inside of me knew she was important, I must admit
The way she would look at me did something to my soul
It was as if I had been looking for something and she was what made it whole

There was a feeling in my gut that was too strong to just ignore
I felt so connected and drawn to her, more than anyone else before
I don’t believe in coincidences, but perfect timing indeed
I believe the universe sets things up so we get exactly what we need

The signs hadn’t made sense; I don’t know if they ever do at first
Sometimes the perfect timing can come across as the worst
Maybe it was the college I attended or the sport I wanted to play
I had to blow my knee out so I couldn’t start work the next day

I needed to find Nike because she would end up there too
Her invitation for the trip was last minute by someone else I knew
The universe got us alone in a room that was made for us
We needed time to get to know each other and to build a little trust

Looking back at it now, I see all the signs clear as day
Getting injured, the new job, fun trip – that was the only way
Those things had to fall in line for that trip to change my life
Each step of the way was essential for me to meet my future wife

Maybe the signs were meant to be unclear, to keep me on track instead
I realize that many signs become clear once you get a little farther ahead
The unexplainable connection would be something I couldn’t ignore
The universe knew that I would follow it because I felt it down to my core

From that point on, it was clear the universe did what needed to be done
It got me to her and the journey from here would be nothing less of fun
A path of self-discovery and love with a life full of many signs
Meeting her would change my life and would keep me so aligned

I learned communication and the beliefs I held within my brain
Figured out what I was feeling and which experience caused the pain
She showed me a love that I only ever dreamed about at night
Her love helped me recognize the love I had for myself was very slight

The years following would come with growth, the kind that changes you forever
I would not only fall in love with myself, but with the entire endeavor
I found a passion to share this journey and to teach others to find love too
Not the kind someone shows you, but the kind you give to you

So maybe my sign was that injury or not wanting to pick a room at all
I truly think the universe gives us many signs, some big and some small
Whether you see it in that moment or feel it within your soul
Your entire life consists of signs, and every step has made you whole

Not this path girl, you’re not one of them.

You’ll wake up tomorrow full of regret.

It’ll only last a few hours, but when you get sober.

The pain will still be there; it will never be over.

Not this path girl, you know it’s not right.

Don’t sell yourself short, you’re truly bright.

Don’t let the miserable ones taint your dreams.

Chase them and show them what it is like to succeed

Not this path girl, he might seem charming.

He will act like he loves you, the after math, horrifying.

He will destruct your demeanor, silence your character, make you afraid, short you on every question that will remain unanswered.

He keeps you on your leash, with bitter rage. Yet, you still love him, I know this won’t change.

Not this path girl, it’s just not sound.

Troubles will occur, but answers will be found.

Closure will exist as the pain shall persist, it’s not over now.

When one door closes others will open, someday, somehow.

Debt will pile, bank accounts will be in the red.

These are challenges you will expect.

But it’s ok girl, no one is perfect .

Life is short but it’s all worth it.

Every stressful sleepless night.

Every little moment of delights.

Girl it’s not over, don’t give up the fight.

Push yourself forward, you are holding the light.

You hold your future, even through doubt.

Don’t spend your life living amongst the rain clouds.

You took my right hand
roughly
as my father let go of my left,
gently.
You pulled me in,
hip to hip,
like possession was protection.
Your arm a gate.
Your eyes a warning.
At eighteen, I mistook it for love.
I mistook you for safety.
I mistook my own silence
for peace.
Had I known to read the sky
not just the vows,
not just the Bible
I might’ve seen it sooner.
The storm.
The lock.
The long, dry ache.
But I followed my heart,
naïve and newlywed,
into twenty years
of dimming light.
Then,
at thirty-eight,
the universe got louder.
You walked out.
Left your offspring.
Left me.
Empty-handed,
half-lit,
still standing.
That’s when I saw it.
The signs.
The stars.
The truth written all along:
I was never meant
to be someone’s shadow.
I was meant
to rise.

I was finally ready to lay myself down to sleep
Permanently dance in shadow time
Sobbing uncontrollably, all alone 
Overtaken and consumed by the illness and trauma by which I was defined

Everything planned out from top to bottom on the 11 Eve of June
Exhausted and overloaded with the things I could not bury, I would surrender under the full moon

Calculating and coordinating every goodbye to the few I thought loved me back
I sent them all my last Hail Mary, hoping someone could talk me out of making my final attack

I sent the goodbye poem to three people, two of whom had saved me before from an OD
Not one of them called or texted; their silence was deafening

I realized then what I always knew: I came into this world alone, and I will leave it the same
With a sense of peace sweeping over me, I realized there are no winners in life’s game

None of this even matters; there is no rhyme or reason to it all
It’s meaningless to find the meaning; it does not matter if or how you rise or fall

I had a couple of weeks left until that beautiful moon would hold me, comfort me in my end
She was my peace, my symbol, the source of my power, my one and only steady friend 

I sobbed so hard on Wednesday that it moved quickly into Thursday at 5am
My body was damaged, my mind was numb, my eyes so swollen that my tears were banned

I meditated and tried to find my center, stewing in a bath of juniper and rose
I met a woman with wild gray hair. I was flown to her on the back of a crow.
She told me I was on the right path and all was going according to plan  
The reason God never rescued me the times I needed him was because I was her lion, not his lamb

She said there are things she needs to show me, to follow her lead
My child, be patient; you have come so far, and it has taken you long enough, but at last you finally found me.

By pure happenstance, I mentioned the visit to my boyfriend; he showed me a picture of The Morrigan
The goddess of death, war and rebirth chose me, one of her children

The parents I never had, the lifetime of abuse from everybody that I have ever loved 
Was all destiny to prepare me for the war 
I was not meant to be soft; I was being conditioned to be resilient and rough

I never had an interest in fairytales; a princess life was never my style
I am a warrior built for battle. I will stab you in the throat, and as you bleed out; I will smile

I always thought I was haunted by demons who wanted me dead
She was a demon goddess calling to me, preparing me to eliminate any threats
She is not very friendly,quite to the point in every visit we have ever had
She may be a demon in her story, but compared to the humans I have loved she is not that bad  

I had laid a notebook
Cleanly on my desk, straight,
Organized pages still
Drying from black ink, the
Words needed most facing out.

It was words saying goodbye,
With my remaining signature.
I remember that day like
It was a nightmare,
Every single moment burned
Into my subconscious.

The world was heavy,
But not like weights,
More of the way it
Disappeared. The memories
Laid on my mind with the
Ache of distance and regret.

I decided to leave it
Quietly.
Alone.
Not a word spoken,
But letters left to explain.
My silence would be
Enough.

Then came the knocking.
Hard.
Alive.
Sharp.

Again.
And again.
Over.
And over.

His voice cracked
Between the beat of
His fist and the wood.
“Please, just open the door.”

When I did
He was already crying.
His hands,
Shaking uncontrollably,
Wrapped my against his chest,
Begging us both to be still.

It was like he had felt it.
The pain, the heartache,
Preemptively.
Like the world told him to run
Before I was gone.

He didn’t ask how I was
Or offer comfort or a distraction.
He just looked at me
His face painted in a pained manner.
A look I can never forget.

His voice was almost whispering,
Shaking.
“What were you about to do?”

For the first time
In years
I felt.
And I felt it all.
All the shame and love and pain.

I couldn’t will my voice to
Produce an answer,
Just tears. And the
Way he held me
Like I was still here,
Like I should stay.

He simply stayed on the floor,
Golding me for hours
Like that night wasn’t something
For us to erase,
But something
To survive.

And I did.
Because he just knew
To ask the question
No one else knew to ask.

He knocked like
His life depended on it.
Like my life
Depended on it.
All because he just
Knew.

Walking out of the hospital,
my freedom grasped in trembling hands,
like a bird who forgot the feeling of sky.
I hadn’t touched sunlight in weeks—
the air unfamiliar, too wide, too bright,
my steps unsure on ground
that no longer held the same promises.

I had lost my soul there.
Not just time, not just weight—
but a quiet kind of certainty
that life would always go on the way it did.
Pain has a way of rearranging
even your hopes.

But as I stepped onto the pavement,
a calmness fell over everything—
like the world paused for a beat,
just to breathe with me.
And then it came.

Not a thunderclap,
not a holy revelation written in flame,
but something gentler.
The universe doesn’t always chant—
sometimes it whispers.

The breeze leaned into me,
its fingers curling through my scarf,
and it said: You are still alive.
You are still in need.

I closed my eyes,
and the heat of the sun
pressed into my face
like an old friend,
squeezing me in a hug,
reminding me what it meant
to simply be alive.

A crow called from a rooftop,
its voice loud and unashamed.
It didn’t ask for silence or apology.
It just was.
And I envied that honesty.

The sky above stretched out
like a page not yet written on,
a writer caught in block—
and I, with my scarred hands,
was holding the pen again.

Flowers I didn’t remember planting
came alive under my fingertips,
nodding from a nearby bed—
as if they were flowers for the dead.
They hummed at me,
a low sound of contentment,
as if they’d been waiting
for my flourishing hands.

The universe, in all its casual magic,
was speaking in every direction:
in the steady hum of cars passing by,
in the mother pushing her baby,
in the child laughing at nothing in particular
outside the hospital grounds.
It said: Look what continues without you.
And yet look what welcomes you back.

My feet, once so heavy with dread,
began to remember their way.
Each step a vow:
I am still moving.
I am still choosing to live.
I felt the earth beneath me—
not just a place to stand,
but a living pulse beneath my soles—
as if it, too, had missed me.
As if it had sent me that breeze,
that bird,
that slant of sunlight
through broken clouds.
As a sign for me to keep going.

And maybe it had.

Maybe the universe does not wait
for grand occasions
to remind us we belong.

Maybe it leaves clues
in sidewalk cracks,
in rustling trees,
in the silence between heartbeats.

As I walked, I let my breath match the wind—
deep, slow, returning.
Each inhale a reclaiming,
each exhale a release.
Same way they taught me in there.
Caged by their arms and wings left imprisoned.

I thought of the hours spent
beneath fluorescent lights,
the machines beeping time
like a cruel metronome,
the strangers in white coats
holding pieces of my fate
in their gloved hands.

And yet here I was.
Not whole, perhaps,
but alive.
And the universe
was writing messages everywhere for me to read.

The birds didn’t ask
what I had endured.
The sky didn’t demand
that I am grateful every second.
They just were.
And that was permission enough
for me to be, too.

I sat on a bench—
one I had walked past a million times
before I knew its value.
The metal cold,
the moment hot.

And I sobbed.
Not from sadness,
not even from joy,
but from the overwhelming grace
of ordinary things that were taken away from me.

A leaf landed on my knee,
spun down from some secret place above—
not to bring meaning,
but to remind me:
I was in the story,
in a different sense.
But I belong.

No, it wasn’t any single thing
that carried the message—
not just the breeze,
or the light,
or the quiet.
It was in all of it.

The universe did not send me a sign
because I asked.
It sent one because I listened.
And I will not forget it.
I will survive and live.

The universe is calling you, so answer the call. it speaks to your senses and everything that you are. it’s asking you to take a chance and step out in faith. it’s asking you to find your purpose and do whatever it takes. life can be so unpredictable but hold high stakes. the time is now for you to walk in grace, your purpose has been revealed to you, and the timing is right, it’s time to take a bow because you have won the good fight.