family
Family can be our support system. Or they can be part of the problem. All about the complicated, loving, and difficult relationship with us and the ones who love us.
I can’t remember that one movie but I remember every other time (cause there are a lot of times)
Movie theaters. Popcorn. Soda. Loud speakers setting up the soundscapes. The corny pop music they’d play with the advertising logos before the movie trailers. Milk duds. Sticky floors.
By Melissa Ingoldsby5 years ago in Psyche
Mental Illness and Marigolds
I stood under the autumn tree in our front yard. The colors were constantly changing, just like mom’s mood. They went from loving green to fiery red in a heartbeat. I watched as she knelt by the flowerbed. Her hands were covered in dirt, like they were every fall. Unlike every fall though, they shook violently as she tried to pull weeds. The marigolds she planted every year were withered and dead. Her mind was somewhere else, and flowers were not a priority this year.
By Amber Toney5 years ago in Psyche
My Monster Mama Loves Me So
Each phase of my childhood had different bedtime books associated with them. My earliest memory of one was Guess How Much I Love You by Sam McBratney next was The Pokey Little Puppy by Janette Sebring Lowrey all up through the second grade when I read myself books every night. My house wasn’t always the most stable growing up and reading (especially late at night when other things were going on downstairs) was a great escape. By fourth grade I had been gifted a small reading light and I read the entire Harry Potter series in just over a month. Reading far into the night and often I would wake up with the book still on me.
By Anilynn Cadell5 years ago in Psyche
My Angel
February 4th, 2019 was the day my life as I knew it came to a screeching halt. Our lives were torn to shreds. Our family ripped apart. My heart, destroyed. Your trust in me, obliterated. Your heart and soul, so filled with light and love, joy and passion, kindness and caring, crushed. That was the day they took you away from me. The day they kidnapped you. Didn't they see that you were so loved? Couldn't they hear that you WERE in the best home for you? Your 5 year old little body faught so hard to try to get out of their arms and run to the police car, screaming for mommy and bawling your eyes out. I still hear it as if it's happening every minute of every day, over and over again. My Little Love, I'm so sorry. My heart will never be ok. I know you're doing well with your adopted family, and I'm thankful for that. So thankful. But oh how I miss you!
By Cricket Knott5 years ago in Psyche
From Purgatory to Present
After getting in a motorcycle accident and breaking 23 bones in my face, plus a permanently separated clavicle, including loss of vision in my left eye and taste & smell. Not to mention my IQ dropping to around ~55 from 128 and always in a dream world, except the last 2 days where I remember some things. I needed to be cut open from ear-to-ear to insert metal plates where the skull cracked and realign the broken facial bones. The Norse God Odin willingly gave up his eye and hung himself on Yggdrasil tree until re-born in exchange for all knowledge and wisdom in the universe, including runes (writing!). Sometimes a sacrifice is required to see what has been missing the whole time is what I discovered, and usually it's right in front of you as we fixate on other goals.
By Andrew Dixon5 years ago in Psyche
An Ode to a Woman
When I became a mother and started to love my son, I became painfully aware of all the ways that my own mother did not love me. I became painfully aware of a truth that at the core of my being I have felt since I was very young but have allocated an immeasurable amount of defense to protecting; my mother never loved me.
By Aubree Unruh 5 years ago in Psyche
My Darling Daughter Sophie
My darling Sophie. You were born at 15.23 on Sunday 29th September 2002 on the labour ward (I can't remember which one it was now) at Warrington My mum (your birth nana) and middle sister, Emma (your birth auntie) were with me when I was taken to the hospital, but at around 2.30pm, my middle sister (your birth auntie) Emma (who was heavily pregnant with your birth cousin Ryan at the time) wanted to go back to our auntie (your birth great-auntie) Janet's, so our mum (your birth nana) asked me if it was ok for your auntie Emma to go back to our auntie Janet's and I said that she could as long as she sent our auntie Janet, so Emma went back to our auntie Janet's.
By Toni Bennett5 years ago in Psyche
