The Devil on my Shoulder

** Talk of postpartum psychosis, thoughts of self harm, and thoughts of harming others**

I wonder if I’ll ever truly be able to put it into words. I suppose the answer is no. I could never put the pain, demons and isolation into words but I try. I try because putting it on paper helps it to stop spinning around in my head. I am filling my second journal in 9 months. The words just flow because I don’t know how else to let this out. 

I really don’t write for anyone else. My writing is simply for me. It’s just a bonus if others along the way can be helped by reading it. 

I fill my pages with anything that seems to get stuck swirling around my mind. Picking up a pen seems to be a key that unlocks the spinning of the thoughts. Picking up a pen can release the thoughts and emotions that haven’t been able to break free on their own.  Continue reading

My Pity Party

I wrote this post only 10 days ago. At the time I had no idea what the weekend ahead was going to hold. I found myself landed in a hospital bed this weekend unable to feel from the waist down or move my legs. My brain unable to register I had legs or arms below my elbow. I felt like a box. The pain in my neck and head was unbearable. With help of the physical therapist I’ve been able to regain feeling in my legs and over the last few days I’ve been able to manage to walk once again, praise the Lord! My thoughts this last week instead of a pity party has been determination, acceptance, and praise of the small victories. My exact thoughts were “I haven’t been through hell to let this take me down.”

Having said all that these words were written in the middle of the night when I was mostly still in denial about my situation. Also I share it because I don’t want anyone to read my blogs and think “Oh wow, she has such a great attitude.” or “She handles everything so well.” I’m human like anyone else and I have my fair share of pity parties, don’t worry about that one.

Over the last few months I’ve been told I’m a walking miracle, I pray God continues to to bless me with His favor. 

It’s 3 A.M. and I’m sitting here unable to sleep. Of what I can still gather of my thoughts I need to get out of my mind in hopes I can get a few more hours of sleep before the morning rush of getting kids out the door hits. 

Have you ever been on a roller coster ride? You know the ones that make you so dizzy you feel like everything around you is spinning even when you know it’s not? I spend a good amount of my day feeling like that now. With constant pain shooting down my neck and radiating from the base of my head up around the side of it till I feel it in my temples and continues till it meets in the front. It makes me feel like it’s some twisted type of crown. 

Honestly these are just two complaints. There are others that come along with my diagnosis but I won’t go into those here. I’ve found myself questioning why God spared me just months ago after a fight with postpartum psychosis to find myself squarely here trying to process that what will be my future which will probably include brain, and neck surgery. 

I find myself wishing once again that this was a nightmare I will wake up from. I  sometimes can’t believe this is my life.. not in a “oh man this is a crappy life”, I assure you I’m very blessed, but in a “what the crap! Do I really need to endure more this year? Lord, could we have just pushed this back to, um, well never?!” 

I’m sure everyone has gone through those things in their life I’m just having a pity party here at 3:15 am now that I’m in too much pain to sleep and the morning will come either way. Unfortunately being a mother doesn’t have a clock out card or an off switch. Of course unless you have brain surgery… is that some twisted joke? 

I write in hopes that maybe when the words fall out of my head, which has been a task as of late due to this condition, that maybe the physical pain I’m in will somehow be manageable enough to sleep through. If not I’ll be making my way out of bed once again and looking like a grannie trying to find her footing before standing, then slowly doing so as her body protests just a bit about how she wishes she could move faster, I’ll make my way carefully down the stairs to heat up this rice bag once again because it’s my only hope of getting enough relief to fall asleep. 

To be honest here.. I’m scared. I guess who wouldn’t be with trusting another human being with your head cut open. The fear of the surgery and then the long recovery with so many restrictions for so long for a mother of four to have. It’s overwhelming to say the lease. Though as I write this all I can think is at least they have a mother here to be present. A mom to give them a hug and ask them their favorite thing and least favorite thing about their school day. A mom that can still tell them in person she loves them and let them sit so carefully by her side as she navigates healing. 

You see my boys so easily could have gone the rest of their lives without that. Without so many moments together. No matter the journey ahead I’m grateful there’s still a journey to be had. 

Poem: Survivor

Poem about the hospital stay. Sometimes the only way to cope with things is to write.


If only these walls
would tumble down.
Would I find myself
in this place?
These walls haunt me.
These tears a
constant reminder
you’re not here..
This pain in my chest
is no longer
from this darkness
but because I’m
doing this alone.
The strength within.
The will to live,
I’ll have to find a way.
Misunderstood, unheard.
How can you be here to help?
You’ve taken so much from me.
You’ve caused me pain.
You’ve controlled me long enough.
I won’t let you take me down.
You’ll make me stronger.
You’ll empower me.
You’ll cause me to create change.
You no longer haunt me.
You no longer control me.
You no longer define me.
Because of you
I’ll make a difference.
Because of you
I’ve found my passion.
Because of you
I’ve found my place.