Broken- by Emily H. Sturgill
Bipolar disorder broke my brain in two poles.
With my medications I walk a tightrope between these poles
depression and mania…..I try daily to slip into the inbetweenness of these two things.
medicine helps but it does not cure. It only helps to contain a balance of semi-stability.
So yes I”ve got a broken brain.
Also I’ve got a broken Uterus. I have Endometriosis Stage 4. A fancy way of brokeness…
I hurt a lot of the time. It’s the worst whenever I am bleeding. Crumpled into layers of pain cramping aching stabbing screaming agony of pain. I’m hurting today in fact. Despite my period not due for two more days my broken uterus spits brownish blood and I know that means to hell with the calendars my period’s starting early. Up until 2015 I was taking opiods for the pain. Then I went through the process of applying for a medical marijuana card. I got off opiods. Now instead of pain daily from my endometriosis I’ve only got pain during my periods and during ovulation…..
A broken Uterus. A history of Infertility. Two pregnancies=Two miscarriages.
It’s a fancy form of brokeness. It’s a double whammy. A broken brain. A broken Uterus.
But deep down inside beneath all of the broken things is my poetry is my stories is my spirit and my soul-even beneath all of that is my heart which is strong unflinching warm and consistently unbroken. It beats on and on-unbroken. And beneath this broken brain and broken uterus is an unbroken girl grasping at straws and pulling like weeds from the ground fistfulls of words which fall to my feet into puddles of poetry.