Tag Archives: mental health

Fiction, Poetry, Writing

Shacks Who Shriek

Leave a comment

Shacks who shriek, spiders who skate,
werewolves teach, moons deflate.
Scheming rat and wild dog howl,
soul-sucking beasts, murder most foul.

If what you fear most is simply fear,
the time-turned solution is plain and clear.
Face the truths that make you quake,
be it darkness or heights, failure or snake.

Retrace your steps past trauma and pain –
executioner’s blade, monsters on a train.
Save yourself with the strength you find.
Be your own hero; leave the past behind.

Stand up to the demon who threatens joy,
be it anger, depression, the urge to destroy.
The time-turned solution is plain and clear
if what you fear most is simply fear.

Tonight I watched Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban with friends. The twists and turns are quite complex in this story line, but all converge to elucidate themes of facing fear, unmasking the truth, and fighting for justice for the wrongly accused. It is very well done and inspires poetry for me when I watch it.

Poetry, Writing

Gold-filled Trunks

Leave a comment

Dust more valuable than gold,
treasures worth their weight
in memory.
Antique steamer trunks
stacked at the foot of the bed
hold space, time –
capsules layered with matter.

I have been buying trunks on Marketplace to use as storage. I never liked the plastic totes and cardboard boxes I used to keep my items in. These feel full of mystery and history. They even inspire poetry.

Health, Writing

A Year Has Passed

1 Comment

Photo by Karolina Grabowska: https://www.pexels.com/photo/woman-sitting-on-the-couch-wiping-her-sweat-with-tissue-7195033/

It has been a year to the day since my last post and I am in a very different place emotionally. Last year, I was much more hopeful and excited about healing, beginning a new school year, finishing my Master’s, and the restful summer I had experienced. Today, I am tired…tired of the Texas heat, tired of dealing with the nonsense required in the teaching field, tired of living paycheck to paycheck, tired of being unable to afford the medical care I need to be healthy and thrive, tired of not having the time or energy to write.

I have decided that I do not like the road I am traveling and need to make some changes. I have wished and dreamed of making change but kept my focus on priorities that are not in line with the reality of the new adventures I want to pursue. I hereby declare that I am no longer putting energy into goals that line up with my previous pursuits. I am going to do what is required of me day to day to meet my obligations, but I am going to reserve the purist, most energetic, liveliest parts of myself for my creative pursuits and begin in earnest to create the reality I yearn for.

All I know is that I want to work remotely, write, be creative, and make enough money to be comfortable and pay for my medical needs. I’m putting it out there and beginning my journey. I’m tired of being tired.

Poetry, Writing

The Mirror of Erised

Leave a comment

What would stare back

from the Mirror of Erised

should the chance arise

to gaze into that smooth pane?

 

Only the deepest desires

of the heart reveal themselves;

neither knowledge or truth

reside in the likeness.

 

It is said that the happiest

on earth would see themselves

exactly as they are, no magic

greater than reality.

 

Do the broken-hearted souls

whose sad countenances

look longingly for the lost

ever make peace with reflections?

 

This poem was written during a Harry Potter marathon with my friend Debbie M. while watching the first movie Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. 

Image credits – The Mirror of Erised by Daan van Genechten (Harry Potter Illustration) https://www.artstation.com/artwork/bKgG0g

Health, Writing

Waking up from discouragement…

Leave a comment

My last post was in October.  I reported that I had not written since authority figures in my life slammed me with judgment, censorship, and criticism…not only of my writing, but my discernment as a human being and professional.

Now my job is in jeopardy–not connected to my writing, politics above my station.  I am working from home due to the coronavirus and quarantine and all that bizarreness that is occurring in this world right now.

I have also taken in grandchildren temporarily while adult children fix their worlds.  I’ve had a winter of sickness and slow recovery.  I’ve battled a time of sadness.  And I’ve applied to begin working on my master’s degree.  Big things are happening.

And all I want to do is write…and read…and write some more.  Enough pouting, sulking, brooding, etc.  It is time to get back to finding my joy.  I cannot be derailed by others whose opinions I don’t even value anyway.  It has certainly not been a conscious decision to take a sabbatical from writing, but that is what has occurred.  And it has not been good for me.

Here and now, I resolve to get back to writing.  I declare this time of non-writing ended.   Rebekah the writer is back.

Essays, Writing

Discouragement

Leave a comment

I had what felt like a setback last week.  I can’t really go into detail, but was required to remove my books from a library, change aspects of said book, and accept feedback I did not want to hear from people I did not want to hear it from.  Sigh…

I have allowed this incident to discourage me to the point that I have not written since then.  I sat down with a cup of tea and tried to write a poem this morning and couldn’t get through it.   Now it is almost bedtime and this post will have to do as my attempt at putting myself back into writer mode.  A blog at least counts as something.

I know many writers have faced discouragement, rejection, rewrites, and edits that destroy the soul of the work.    They have to pull themselves out of funks and get back to the craft.  And I will.  I am temporarily in mourning.  This depression will not get the best of me.  It is simply a detour on my journey.  I will find my way back.  This post is a start.

Health, Writing

Writer’s Retreat

Leave a comment

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I rented a cabin on a river to do a 4-day Writer’s Retreat. I am on day 2 and have finally gotten into an actual honest-to-goodness project that resembles both productivity and creativity.

I took a break and looked back at some old posts on this blog. I found one from 4 years ago dreaming of doing a cabin in Colorado someday for the entire summer. That is still on my to-do list, but I don’t know if I would want to be without my sweet husband for 3 whole months. He has kind of grown on me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The lighting was too bright, so I created my own stained glass window.  Intermittent rain on a metal roof has been music to my ears. 

I have a little air conditioner and two fans creating the necessary chill factor to keep me comfortable and my favorite snacks and beverages to keep me fueled.  Of course hot tea is at the ready.

Nature has invaded my domicile twice now.  I’m hoping that is as bad as it gets.  Otherwise, the accommodations are quite satisfactory. 

BlackIce mock cover                                                                                    

This is the novel I have decided to focus on as my project.  It is an old one I wrote in 2008.  A colleague made the cover.  

I am on the editing and revising stage – about 1/4 of the way through.  Once done, I have to put together the front and back matter (dedication, copyright, about the author, etc.)  Then I plan to upload my first ever book for publishing.  It is actually coming together.

I’m thinking of different names for different genres – too confusing?

R. Marshall – YA

Mrs. Marshall – Children’s Books

Juanece – Romance

  • My thinking is that kids who love a chapter book about 3rd graders won’t accidentally stumble upon a wild adult romance novel.
  • Teens looking for age-appropriate adventure won’t get tricked into baby stuff.
  • It could possibly keep my different writing age groups separate and safe.  
  • Just something I’ve been mulling over for a while now.

Health, Poetry, Writing

Medication Experiment

Leave a comment

I am taking medication

to relieve pain.

It is an experiment.

Does it help?

Am I better?

All I know is that

my mind is free to

feel joy:

for my best friend’s

IRS windfall,

my husband

on his way home,

our dog

not escaped,

the tea pot

boiling,

another episode of House

cued up,

my bed

waiting for me.

These are not new,

but my ability to

appreciate them is.

My pleasure is sincere.

The pain is still there.

I am not cured.

No marathons are in my future.

But there is a tiny space,

a slight cushion of awareness,

a sliver of hope that wasn’t

present before.

Like the absence of

intensity has given breathing room,

possibility of expansion,

a moment of focus on something

other than merely coping.

The pain is not gone,

but neither is my mind.

 

RJMarshall 6/2/16

Essays, Writing

Lay offs

Leave a comment

My company had lay offs.  Several people’s last day is this Friday.  I am sad and feel guilty for having my own job.  I have tried to help them as best I can with offering letters of reference, help with resume writing and cover letter writing.  (I’m an English teacher.)  I’ve offered tissues and emotional support as people have cried and talked about job options, fear, and stress.

I had some concern that I could lose my job, so felt immense relief when I did not get the call into the boss’s office on the day of lay offs.  Then I felt guilty for that relief.  Who am I to still have a job when perfectly hard-working other people now do not?  The whole thing just makes me so sad.

My prayers and positive thoughts go out to all those struggling with this problem right now.  I have been there and truly know how it feels…the fear, the concern, the doubt, the questions of self-worth…

A pay check does not define self-worth.  Another person’s opinion does not define our worth.  A good review, a bad review, a positive appraisal, a crappy appraisal…they are just snapshots – neither accurate nor truth, merely opinion.  I need this pep talk as much as the next person.  The opinion I value most is my own:  my own conscience, sense of ethics, peace of mind…no one can take those away from me.

Poetry, Writing

Creative Project

Leave a comment

My best friend convinced me to participate in a project combining my poems with her photographs.  I sent her this poem and she found the perfect photograph to go with it.

Lifted gently from my bed,

I dangle in your arms

safe and peaceful

riding dreams of breezy nonchalance

inside acorns of emotion.

Tiny kernels of light

speck frozen in vision’s grasp

just on the edge of horizon

the edge of reality

the edge of self.

A merging of wellness

and pain, fate and chance…

simplified seconds that

encapsulate infinity

between beats of my heart.

Each outward breath fills the universe

with life, spaces out the stars,

until the drawing in again

collapses solar systems,

visits death on the unsuspecting.

And as I lay me down you keep

my soul, my LORD,

my love in sleep.

-Rebekah J. Marshall

bitties

Photograph by Erica Smith. http://thebitties.squarespace.com/new-blog/