minor musings 1

       Sometimes when I am alone with my thoughts, which is often, I wonder why I am the way I am. Why do I feel things so deeply? Do other people feel things this way? Why do I seem to take one step forward and three steps back so often? While I know we cannot blame who we are on someone or some event, I do know that what we walk through has a way of shaping us into who we are. Recognizing this is an integral part of our path that we walk because if we fail to do this; we will end up blaming our lot on someone else. I may appear to contradict myself at times until I am fully able to express my mind on this matter- so please bear with me.

       I’ve seen stories that tell of a child surviving years of abuse and torture only to have a complete mental breakdown and never heal. I’ve watched where a woman was sexually molested, beaten, and enslaved for a long period of time and when freed she could not unfetter herself from her tortuous dreams. So, while we are responsible for our reactions to other’s actions; there are still the intricate musings of our vast beings that cannot be overlooked nor cast aside. I would like to keep these thoughts in mind as I share more about my story. I write mainly because writing is cathartic for me and also in hopes that maybe someone else would choose to share their story with me. Although it has been nearly a lifetime since my story began; so much of it is still fresh in my mind. I have spent so much of my life lamenting the way my brain and emotions work. Instead, I am coming to a tentative grip that this is who I am.

        I will endeavor to write from the perspective of my story alone; but at times it will intersect with others who were with me.  What I write about is true but I will change the names of other people. I hope my battles, my agony, my confusion can all touch someone’s heart who may be struggling and feel that they are alone. They are not. Sometimes I will share poems I have written to chronicle my journey. My poems are more like prayers whispered up to God in hopes that He will hear me. Thank you for taking time to read!


i’m finding just the spot, where all chaos ceases to live.

slowly disappearing, can you grab my hand with yours?

sinking’s not my thing, i just want it to stop.

donna marie






can’t breathe

too heavy, too low, it’s painful, can’t breathe-

can’t see, so dark, snakes crawling on me-

wrap around me, suck it out, till no life is left-

for then , i think, i can finally be at rest.

donna marie



someone gather me up, every single part

drop me where it’s quiet; where sadness flees my heart

is that place unknown? i’m sure it is to me

cause every way to heal is unavailable and not free

how long do you flail before someone sees you dying?

twenty-five years not long enough? i’m not lying.

i don’t have the energy to fight this fight again.

lay me down in peace, so i can rest ….. amen.

donna marie

our brain is an organ….really

you know, i’m tired…….. tired of having to explain to people why i am not “better” yet.   “it was so long ago, why aren’t you over it?”    i wonder how many times i have fielded that question.  ignorant people should shut up.  should i repeat that?? it wouldn’t help–as long as people are breathing; there will be stupid people. it’s kinda like saying to someone who is battling cancer, “why aren’t you healed yet?” HELLO!!!  depression, bipolar, PTSD, obsessive/compulsive disorder are actual, REAL health problems.  you see, the brain is genuinely a part of our body. (not sure if you new that or not) it’s what you call an organ. (i know the sarcasm is thick)  just as any other organ in our body can become sick–our brain can too. so the next time you ask someone why they can’t stop being “depressed”– shut up!








































who i am is not who you see

dangling from lightning 

footloose and fancy free


a moment in time

i danced among the daisies

where thoughts were sublime


that time is past

galloped thru the wind

flew away at last


charred meat is what i eat

choking down every bite

when will it be sweet

donna marie



will i ever heal?

i find it difficult to live. why is it so hard? what i am referring to is the darkness that plagues my mind. i became acquainted with this plague from a very early age. for as long as i can remember, i have worried about everything. i am so frustrated because i have spent years— many, many years working towards what i thought was healing. i don’t know if i am any closer to it now than i was back then. it seems for every thing i gain ground on, i fall back five steps. each compulsion i stop, i replace it with a different one. i am frustrated. 

donna marie

i wonder

sometimes i wish there was a place in the middle that i could slip into.

where nothing racks my mind.

a place i can be whole.

i am not fat there.

i am not terrified of dying there.

sometimes i want to be numb.

to protect me from the pain.

sometimes when i look at others,

i wonder what they would think if they knew what was in my head.

i wonder if i will ever be whole again. 

i wonder

donna marie