Warning: the following post contains self-harm habits and mental health distress. Reader should proceed with caution. I have learned to embrace the wiggle-tickle in my chest. It's been there since I was small and the morning of each school day was framed with a nervous outlook that never changed, except perhaps on Fridays when I …
If you went through a literature gothic phase in high school, as many literature lovers do, you recognize the title of this post from The Raven by none other than Mr. Edgar Allen Poe. It's still one of my favorite writings ever, a poem I even went to speech competition and monologued it (they said it was a poor choice for such a "common" poem as if that word could ever be applied to Poe, the uncultured fools). But it's this very line that won't shake from my head. It's hard to not think about it when some days, it's all I can feel: Weak and weary.
A huge Happy Mother's Day (a day late, I know) to every mother out there, whether you're a mother from giving birth (women are the original 3D printers, you know), a stepmother of a child of any age, a mother who has lost children, those with mothers who have already crossed the bridge between this …
I want a mental break, I write as I slug down my fourth or fifth Monster Energy drink of this week. I haven't had a single can of this tart, fizzy, heart-rate-pumping drink for a couple of years (I quit drinking them towards the end of my retail working years and switched to a desk …
The World of Abigail Rose 