I’m jealous of those with smooth skin, not on their faces but everywhere else. Clean flesh, delicate, never maimed. My scars tell a story that I’d prefer to delete. And unlike the spirit that intensifies, gets wiser and more vigilant with its wounds, bodies are lazy. Destroy it once, it will never be perfect again. Read More …
The weather is so bipolar. My sister-in-law is bipolar. My son is divorced. Well, his mother-in-law is bipolar. What can you expect? It’s all over, the judgment. The stigma won’t go away. Yet, I believe the greatest stigma is inside my own heart. I hate myself. I hate myself for being so hopelessly bipolar. I Read More …
” For how can I bear to see the evil which is happening to (me and) my people, and I can bear to see the eradication of my kindred?” –Malka Esther from the Purim Megilla Shalom, My name is Hadassah Chavivah Zeltzer, A.K.A Kimmie Zeltzer. In my everyday life, I use my Hebrew name Hadassah Read More …
Dedicated in memory of the author’s sister, Susan Sarah Baron It has been a long time since I wrote anything about mental illness. I used to be a big NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) advocate. I even wrote a book titled Surviving Mental Illness, My Story, and became a Peer Specialist/Advocate. My sister struggled Read More …
[Hello My Name Is…] Swirling snow;serpents at our heels.My body buzzes;muscles shivering. Tension crawls –beneath my skin,and my mask –begins to crumble. My stomach hurts;I am afraid. I face a semi-circle;eyes in faces stare at me.It’s time for me to tell the truth,let everybody know –“I Am” My tears are slow and silent,they slide backwards-absorbed Read More …
Message from the author: Dear fellow sisters and brothers, I wrote the following poem to validate my shame and pain. And then I thought to share it with anyone else who can relate. Maybe you are a holy jew with mental illness, or maybe you have a spouse, sister, brother, son or daughter with a Read More …
I was the one in the shadows, blending in with the wallpaper hoping no one would notice me. The silhouette quietly hiding, too scared to open my mouth and when I did speak, it would be anxious chatter of a child, covering up fear with humour, a deflection of the truth. I grew up in Read More …
A caterpillar so small and slowNo one thinks he can blossom or growHe doesn’t knowWhy he was created without shine or glow Why all his friends runAnd everyone says he ain’t funLife is just a scam and conHe feels like he’s done The voices in his brainDrives him insaneWith no direction or laneHe feels like Read More …
Dearest Precious Body, This is a long overdue letter, and I thank you for patiently waiting. I have so much to say. Where do I even begin? I’ll start with two simple phrases consisting of a total of four words. Words that carry with it years of pain, suffering, gratitude and admiration: I’m sorry and Read More …