Every day the search is so real
In obvious, yet often vague fashion
The path is forever passing through
Mirage and tangible peaks and valleys

When molehills turn to mountains
When that oasis ahead offers nothing
Only barren and deserted ground
The insurmountable desire to fade becomes
An obstacle we struggle to overcome

Every day the struggle is sincere
How to permeate and see beyond
Our perceived vision of that molehill
The lying mirage we cling to in hope
Of quenching that continuous thirst on the journey

Strive to find the meanings lying in wait
Infinite is their patience the meanings exists
While often not simple the reward is priceless
Knowledge is power and awareness the weapon

Search and struggle brings truth
Even if only your own to hold
Because at the end of every path we choose
Is a new one only you can walk

Kosmic_Kachina2469

I felt like my death is long overdue
I use to enjoy life when I was with you
Look into my eyes and what do you see
Just the leftover mess of what you made of me

As memories turn to lessons i look to see life in a new light
Fighting back my nature to not let my love turn to spite
Despite my best efforts i still was not enough
Tell me was what we had ever real or all just a bluff

I gave you all i had in spite of my status
But despite all that you painted me red black and blue like i was your personal canvas
As i pick up the pieces of whats left of me
Will i finally find myself and be set free?

Invisible. A wish that with each passing day the desire to become tethered with it grows. It was always my answer when I was asked, “What superpower would I choose given the chance?”

It was always invisibility. It’s a period where you are free from the confinements of reality, and everything that comes with it. Free from judgement from other people, free from inconvenience but also securing a safe space to truly be yourself.

Lately the story behind that spark, my desire, it derives from
unwanted attention, unwanted burdens, piling up, and weighing me down like unyielding cargo.

It’s the attention through the eyes of a lustful man, stopping to stare at me while I work, making small talk when it’s clear I don’t want to be friends. His gaze, his voice were like spiders crawling into my skin, sending painless shockwaves of panic through my veins, like a mini earthquake racketing in my body.

It rippled my nerves with anxiety, taking my thoughts to a dark place, swearing to myself that I’ll never be caught in a dark alley with him, wishing I can disappear so his eyes and slimy smile can stop looking at mine.

There’s also life issues, and personal struggles, burdens like struggling to contain your emotions, because you feel too deeply, and now you’re putting yourself out there too much, or you take things the hard way, or you get told you’re too sensitive. You just feel TOO MUCH! It’s overwhelming, so much you start to feel drained in your heart, your soul, your spirit, and self worth.

The burden of it all, juggling life’s chaos, searching for balance, and all that jazz. I struggle everyday, trying to do enough so that I am a fully functional stable, healthy, human being.
A woman.

Yes, snap out of it, Paige.You are more than this and who you are is better than this. You’re better than this.

Listen, I’ll be honest while I’m still going, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t take a toll on me.

And then I remember, one night, I painted a seamless life, an escapable vision, and a fruitless chase for it. A mirage that I will never obtain but always yearn for.

To be alive but invisible would be a kaleidoscope of possibilities, shifting and unfolding, basking in a beautiful, colorful life, relishing in a chance to live in peace, free from mental torment, and wallowing in the quiet stillness of a misty sanctuary, where the soul roam unseen.

It is a dream that I would die for.

In the darkness, I’m alone, floating on a cloud of dreams,
where reality blurs and paints a picture of my mind dancing freely,
taking solace in the emptiness,
escaping the inevitable
to a void where struggles on all fronts
dissolve.

To a single adult like me,
name any struggle you’re facing
and I can likely tell you
that I was there before coming here.
Still gonna be waiting for me
for when I get back though.

God, it was serene, the feeling,
like being wrapped in a cozy blanket
on a cool night in your bed;
while your worries melted like butter
into a fleeting absence.

And when there’s night,
there’s day,
and like the sun in the world,
yours will rise again in your mind,
which reminds me of
the one thing I always loved about
the darkness,
because in it there’s nothing there,
no light to illuminate
any harsh reality
or truth
waiting to cause havoc in
your heart and mind.

And if it were up to me,
I’d manifest my thoughts into a person,
and kill it
so my mind can finally have peace.

I’d stay in the darkness forever,
if that meant being free.

(I was inspired to write this just now at 11:34pm 8/27/24)
In the past, society has deemed mental health as a crisis or a “stigma” and if women showed any form of mental health issues, we were sanctioned to an asylum to live out the rest of our days. Some men as well. But, in 2024, mental health is still frowned upon. “Oh, what, in your life is so bad?” “No one will believe you.” “Your depression is just you being lazy.” etc…I have had the immense pleasure of working in the mental health field off and on for a very long time and I fall in love more every time I go back. It is not wrong to ask for help with your mental health. Forget about what your friends and family will say. Forget about what social media and film and television say about it. Just do not think for one moment that you do not deserve to be here. And every time you think you will end it all, remember, I am here for you, as are hundreds of others and think to yourself: “just one more chapter.”

Loneliness slithers in
Like an unsuspecting snake
Coiled around my neck
Struggling to breathe
With nobody around
To save me
In a crowded room
I feel so alone
Everyone has someone
But no one has got me
Each night I come closer
To a planned death
Because loneliness kills
I don’t belong anywhere
I’m not needed nor wanted
So why even bother
I’ll drift away peacefully
Forgotten easily
And never remembered

To express and not to impress.
That’s what my wardrobe mantra has always been.
My insecurities, my assets, my emotions, my sartorial choices. My clothes have always been about just me.
What I wish to is what I wear.
Wore them pants wide with arrogant pride while most felt pressurized to snuggle into those skinnies.
Dared the unforgiving jumpsuit before it pole-vaulted into it’s current fashionista glory.
Fashion trends may fail but personal style always stays and slays.
Fashion has copycats but style is unimitable. Fashion runs the risk to look frumpy, style is consistently classy!
My clothes have always been my strongest mode of self expression and hold the power to strip me.
Strip me of my fears, my vulnerabilities, my facades and expose my inner moods and eccentricities which can be quite scary!
I have always looked at my style as a metric of how well I know my body. I realize my body is ever evolving with age and hence organically so must my style.
For what fits may not necessarily flatter.
I let no brand, no magazine , no nobody tell me what befits me. For that is my mind and my body’s prerogative only.
I shall always be my own fashion house, my recurring muse , my own runaway supermodel and most of all my own worst critique!
As I contemplate color blocking warm and cold, throwing some solid pattern on prints , or experimenting with unconventional hemlines , I would like to do so with complete abandon of external validation.
For ultimately it’s always about what the final look does for me and never about how others choose to see.

I was browsing through “My Mother’s Story” for a prompt. Not for my mother, and not for the children I don’t plan on having, but for me. I am my own mother in many senses.

“What was the hardest period of your life and why?”

My instant thought was “in a sense I am still living it, yet it has passed many times”.
It’s recurring. I am plagued with anxiety and depression many times for many reasons.
It never completely leaves me; sometimes it’s just managed better. It’s like keeping it in a box in the attic.
Then a trigger or a stress, consciously or not, just opens the attic door. Scours through the piles of chaos. Finds the box. And of course, proceeds to dump all of its belongings in every bit of the house. Messy messy I feel.

Right now, I am exhausted. Drained. Sad. Far from content. Miles from happy.
I want rest – not from sleep, but from life’s stresses.
I need clarity; a sure direction on where I am going.
I desire joy – self acceptance, motivation, calmness.
I’m yearning for change – beach, sand, sun on end.

I am the type of tired a nap doesn’t shake.
I’m so uneasy that a hug doesn’t help relax me.

Is this what a quarter life crisis feels like?
And although 75% of people in my age bracket experience this, does that actually make it normal?
Even more unsettling.

So I’ll take this day as both a win and a loss. Winning because I’m making it through with every bit of life inside of me. Losing because I know times have been and will be better.
The stable me will return. She will strike again with her optimism, free spirit, and bolts of energy.

Until then, a restless girl I will be.

Behind the mask, no face to find,
A trick of mind, ‘neath sun that’s kind,
Yet rain pours down within the soul,
Where hidden truths take their toll.

“Get up, get on, you’ll be alright,”
The lies they tell ease the plight.
A crown once worn, now tipped and slanted.
Society’s stigma, harsh and untrue.

“Go out, be free,” they say, unaware,
That solitude’s chosen over despair.
In sorrow’s depth, alone you wallow,
While unseen, in code, for help you call.

Attention sought? Not even a hand to hold,
A listening ear, as your story’s told.
Over and over, being told “You’ll be okay,”
But will they listen, or just turn away?

Until the end, when all is read,
And in the paper, your name is led.
Will they see then, what they missed before,
Or just a picture, nothing more?

Healing can feel 2 paths
The one with all the rocks
And the one with the steps to the mountain
The flowers that bloom for every little accomplishment
Finding the things that work for me
The constant therapy appointments
The constant doing things alone
Finding the peace with the sun
The peace with the birds and the breeze
The walking up on another chance
Another day
Closer to where I want to be
Closer to the northern lights
Closer to the place where nature is the most beautiful
Where the leaves stop falling
Where your so at peace
That nothing or nobody takes that away from you again