• Ho, Earthling!,  My Brain On Crack

    100 And Counting…

    There are so many ways to die. She knew this. Daily she plotted her death. Little ways. A sheaf of papers could grow edges and slice knifelike across her white soft throat. The cord of his headset, sprawled oh so innocently across her bed, could stretch and wrap itself like a hungry boa around her neck. The closet door could slam so satisfyingly, crushing her skull into the jamb. Kitchen knives could grow wings. Heavy pots with heavy lids could crash like cymbals into the grapefruit of her head. Cars could swerve and leap over sidewalks. So many ways. There’s no point to being here if Here just means pain.…

  • Ho, Earthling!,  My Brain On Crack

    Why I Have Cancer

    I figured it out. It should have been a no-brainer. Why I never suspected that years of self loathing would lead to cancer, I don’t know. But it clearly did. I hate myself. I tried to wipe me away by changing my name two years ago, but like a bad penny and a lost puppy, I came back. And all I can do now is imagine I’m jabbing an ice pick into the side of my now-irradiated head because the pain of being me is unforgivable. Please make it go away. The pain. I would do anything not to feel this anymore. I shouldn’t be here. I can’t be here…

  • Ho, Earthling!,  My Brain On Crack

    I’m A Bitch, I’m A Lover

    Something has turned me into a total raving bitch. Does cancer do that? Although I would like to blame [everything] it on cancer, sadly, I believe this is my doing. Last week one of the people I love most in the world came to visit. And that was right about the time that TB (Total Bitch) showed up. All her fears and anxieties and need to control came out while this awesome person was visiting. I hate that. I hate that my son, this amazing young man, saw me being a bitch, saw me in my fears, saw me struggling to walk across the room because my body is so…

  • Magical,  My Brain On Crack

    Manual

    They should offer people a manual. I would read it. I would keep it under my pillow and bring its well-thumbed, hi-lighted pages out from under when I needed it. Like, when the person you love is hurting and shuts you out of that hurt because it’s the same old song, really — what should you do? And, when he holds your hand and suddenly you are 13 again and you don’t know what it means — what should you do? Or, when you are sad and afraid and feeling alone and are faced with demons you welcomed 40 years ago — what should you do? If I had a…

  • My Brain On Crack

    Panic

    The world has sped up. I feel it spinning around me, raindrops stinging my face like tiny needles of glass, each one piercing my heart. The walls around me crumble into dust. I search for somewhere to hold on to keep from falling, but my fingers grasp empty air. I try to remember to breathe, but my chest weighs too much. Nothing is the same. Everything hurts. In my mind I see the upside-down car pushed to the side of the freeway today. I see the tremendous splash it made, a fountain of millions of stinging needles. I wonder what it was like. I wonder what to do now.

  • My Brain On Crack

    Lonely

    It dawned on me just now, as I contemplated logging in to Facebook to see what’s new in my stream with all the people near and far, real and virtual who have come to populate much of my online life, that I was doing so in order to keep from feeling. Specifically, to keep from feeling lonely. The thought — I am lonely — blindsided me. I am lonely? Really? In this house with my soulmate, the man who now calls me his beloved, his twin flame? How can I be lonely? I am, and I am afraid. My bed calls to me, yards of white fluffiness, pillowy billowy down-filled…

  • My Brain On Crack

    Blind

    I am watching my life pass before me from behind an opaque screen, my eyes straining in vain to see something they cannot. Once in a great while, once a year or so, I sleep the sleep of the dead. A whole day when I can do nothing but sleep. Oh, I try to make it through wakefulness when this happens, but after an hour or two awake — even after coffee — all I can do is collapse again, gratefully, on my bed. Comatose. And I begin dreaming. No, not dreaming, exactly. More like falling into a world that I cannot escape. In this state I find myself dreaming…

  • My Brain On Crack

    Feeling

    After a lifetime of feeling but not knowing (or wanting to know) what I was feeling, I am learning to do a check-in. This is what I am feeling right now: Sad. I feel the loss of something I really really wanted. Angry. I had expectations. Made choices based on them. Was I imagining things? Fooling myself? Did I believe in something that wasn’t there? Afraid. Now what? I don’t know anymore. I thought I did. Today I want to try to find my foundation again, but I don’t yet know where to look.

  • My Brain On Crack

    Missing

    I am a ghost. I am formless, void, hollow. I breathe and the breath wafts through me. I sing and hear only the wheezing of a empty dry bellows. I trace footsteps out of my bedroom, following the shapes on the golden brown wood that lead through the hall, past the tiny-white-tiled bathroom, down the steps and out the door into constant motion, cars going by at all hours, energy moving, people living and dreaming within a hair’s-breadth of me, and all I feel is slow, dull, invisible. I move, think, work, and speak in slow motion, half-time, endless loops circling around and around, tightening around me, constricting. I do…

  • Love,  My Brain On Crack

    Polynomial

    You remember those, right? Am I giving any of my geekiness away when I say that solving quadratic equations was sort of a highlight for me, mathwise? I found a certain exquisite perfection in creating balance. Each side of the equation balances the other. Yummy. To refresh, in case Algebra II was (cough) a few years ago for you: a polynomial is an expression of finite length constructed of variables and constants. [What, you don’t trust my truthiness in math? Go on, Google it.] It has not escaped me that I am involved in the creation of a polynomial. I already told you that 1 + 1 = 3, remember?…