Poetry Presents: Poem and Response

"Tumble out of bed
just as the sun crests the horizon.
Hobble over to the window.
Squint through the blinds.
Tug them apart, gently.
Let the light pour over you,
warm your cheeks, kiss your lashes, breathe
new air into your lungs;
scrub you, for a moment, clean.

-There's a new dawn every day. Hold on."
-S.S.

A response:

Clean is more than a word,
more than a description
of how far away from dirty we are.
Clean is a feeling.
New. Bright. Fresh.
Nothing clean is ever dirty;
don't doubt yourself.

-You deserve the happiness you want for yourself.

Writing Presents: PUBLISHED

I published my first online article for an actual publication today!

I wrote a short piece about interacting with someone that's schizophrenic.

You can find it here.

My friend, Ben, shared it and commented that it was one of the "strongest, bravest things" he's ever seen a student do.

I don't really feel brave publishing this. I feel very much afraid. This is kind of a coming out for me, about my mental illness. Not many people know that I am schizoaffective, and now I've told a part of the internet that people are actually going to see.

Perhaps in facing my fear of judgment and ridicule, I'm a little bit brave after all?

Poetry Presents: I Can Be As Healthy As I Want, But I Will Still Be Sick

My eyes say one thing

My ears say another

How long will I suffer

Living in one body,

Split between two realities?

I think I need some water

But being hydrated won't tell me what's real

And what's not

Writing Presents: Articles for the Odyssey

So, a few weeks ago, I sent in an interest request to write for an online publication called The Odyssey. I see lots of their articles on Facebook about lots of different things, so I figured, why not give it a shot?

I forgot about it, then this past Tuesday I get a text from the Editor in Chief of the Georgia Southern community. We talked for a few minutes, and she decided that I would be a good addition to the team.

I wrote my first article. It will be published soon, for the entire internet to see, though, I'm not sure exactly how soon. It was due today, so it'll be up soon. I'll post a link here.

My first article is me stepping forward about my mental illness. It's me saying, "I have schizophrenia and that's okay." I'm nervous for it to be published to Facebook, because that's about 400 people that can see it. Not all 400 will read it, of course, but at least a few will see it.

I will still be writing more personally here, though, but I will also be posting the things I'm writing for The Odyssey.

This is an exciting time for me. I'm getting to write more publicly about anything I please. I think I'd like to write more about mental illness and body positivity, especially in relation to my life. I might even have an impact on someone. That person might even me myself.

Swimming Presents: PEACE

The water was as warm as spring. It was water drawn for a bath. I dived into it, washing away everything sad. It washed away everything terrifying and everything angry and everything painful.

I turned over onto my back. I wiped my eyes. The lights in the pool made some light, which made the sky harder to see, but I could still see some stars--and, of course, the moon.

I let the water around my ears drown out all the extra noise.

I simply was.

Words from a Friend Presents: More Words from Me

I have a friend that today shared her blog with me, sharing parts of herself with me.

She wrote the following.

"A fear.

I am defective 

Because (?)

I wear glasses. 

A rebuttal.

Glasses are not uncommon. My vision just isn't focused on my retina well.


But.. You're built wrong. Genetically. 


A rebuttal.
Correlation does not equal causation.
If there was a random sampling giving every one on Earth an equal likelihood of having deficits (50/50 chance of boy or girl, whatever other 1/something chance of defects), then I am not Less Than. I am one of many whose chances just gave me what I have. A need for glasses.


Well Reasoned. "

I read this and I felt relief. I am not Less Than for having a mental illness. I am not less of a person, less of a friend, or less of a daughter for having a mental illness.

"I am one of many whose chances just gave me what I have."

I am not undeserving of love, support, or help because of these chances.

I keep thinking of my mental illness as a bad thing, and in some ways, it really is. My life is a lot harder and more complicated because of it. Perhaps if I stop thinking about it, though, as a bad thing and more of just a thing that happened. Things happen to people all the time and this is just one of those things that happened to me.

More of this Journey Stuff I Keep Rambling About

"Know that you can start late, look different, be uncertain, and still succeed."
-Misty Copeland

I saw this on Tumblr literally about 2 minutes ago, if that. I didn't know I needed to hear that, but I did.

I had just gotten off the scale, weighing myself against my better judgement. I was discouraged by the number, but was trying not to be too upset because progress doesn't happen immediately. It takes time.

I should have gotten a handle on my weight years ago. I can't really answer why I didn't. It wasn't that I didn't care, but I just didn't have the motivation to change? Maybe it was my depression speaking. Or maybe I really just didn't care. I wasn't bullied for my weight in high school per se, although I know I was one of the undesirables, in terms of the dating pool. That didn't really bother me too much, though. I didn't want to be with someone that was with me only because I was attractive. Being overweight weeded out some of the shallowness.

It didn't start to really bother me until my freshman year of college. I realized how much I hated my body. I wanted to learn to love myself, even as a fat individual. I was inspired by women I followed on Tumblr that were my size and loved themselves. I wanted to be able to show myself and my body that kind of kindness.

I didn't start to work out or anything. I just wanted to work on the mental aspect of loving myself. I figured taking care of my body would come once I figured put how to love myself as I was. I didn't want to rush the process of change.

When I dated my ex, sophomore year of college, all that changed. Comments, dirty looks, manipulating me in starving myself and exercising for hours tore down every inch of progress I'd made. I have never hated myself more than when I was dating him.

And then that ended. And I started to rebuild from a new square 1. A square 1 that was so much lower than the square 1 I started at freshman year. But that was okay.

When I started dating Ryan, we talked about the weight issue. He said that he liked me as I was then, but he didn't want me to suffer from health complications later on. He wanted to work out with me to help me take care of my body. For the first few months of us dating, I said I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready for the kind of pressure that working out and eating better would put on me and my new relationship. I didn't want a repeat of my previous relationship.

But then. In March, I remember looking at myself in the mirror and feeling pretty. As I was. All x amount of pounds of me felt pretty. I felt as though I were looking at a new person and I could see past all the fat, the double chin, the big tummy, the manatee thighs...I could see myself, body and soul connected for the first time.

I was ready to start taking care of my body the way it deserved.

It has been a rough ride. I lost 9 pounds in the first month, and then fell apart when my mental illness creeped back in and finals approached. I've since gained the weight back, but that's okay. I'm starting again. Another quote I saw today said, "It's okay to rest, so long as you do not quit."

I, of course, am still a work in progress. I still have days where I look at the mirror and go "ew", but that's okay. I am on a journey and journies aren't linear. There are ups and downs and that's okay.

Just because I waited until now to start losing weight doesn't mean I can't.  Just because I waited until I was nearly 21 to start loving myself does not mean I can't learn to love myself. I can.

And I will.