by Neesa Suncheuri
I’m at my psychiatrist’s office for a routine visit. I go every four weeks, mostly to get my prescriptions. I haven’t changed my medication dosages in months.
“Hello, Neesa, how are you?”
“I’m doing really well!” A smile on my face. “Last week, something amazing happened to me. I’ve become a Christian!”
Continue reading The Gift of Light
By Kitt O’Malley
EDITOR’S NOTE: I think we all hate Facebook messenger at this point.
Email and direct messages, especially Facebook direct messages, intrude. I do not feel safe in the secretive world of chat. I need witnesses – others protecting my back. I prefer communication public – on my Facebook timeline or as comments to my blog posts.
Continue reading DEAR READER: Boundaries, Intimacy, and Trust
by Darick Taylor
Looking back on 30 years, most of them spent in isolation, it often takes my breath away. Time flows in one direction, and I will never be able to recover what has been lost. Living in the microcosm of my mind. Reaching desperately for meaning. If I go outside they will see—in the tension of my face and the perpetual downturn of my eyes. They will know that I am ugly. They will see the poverty and ignorance. A sixth-grade dropout. Agoraphobic. Neglected and fallen through the cracks; raised in trauma.
Continue reading Outside
by Neesa Suncheuri
I’m blamed for being lazy,
Because I don’t pitch in my fair share.
I’m blamed for being dumb,
Because I can’t stay in school.
Continue reading POETRY: Entitlements
by Valarie Kinney
Often, people celebrate anniversaries with dinner out, champagne, maybe a dozen roses.
Today I am trudging through a different sort of anniversary, and it’s hard.
Early in the spring three years ago, my sister complained of shoulder pain. It was in her shoulder blade, she said. Kept her up at night. She went to our doctor, who thought it likely my sister had been a waitress too long. “You’re pushing fifty, Charlotte,” she said, “you’ve been doing this over thirty years. You might need to consider a job change.” But the pain continued and the anti-inflammatories didn’t help, so my sister went back a week or so later. The doctor ordered an x-ray. The radiologist noted something, some sort of mass, in her left lung. Suddenly, there was a flurry of appointments, and in a very short time, we knew there was a tumor in her lung, the size of a grapefruit. It had already eaten through three ribs and part of her spine.
Continue reading When Green Day’s on the Radio