Swimming with sharks

Swimming with Sharks 6/15/19

Summer brings warmer waters.

Summer welcomes beautiful oceans,

and breathless seas.

Sandy white beaches, scattered sea shells and

thrilling deep diving.

Summer brings tranquility, solace and happiness.

Be wary of that deep dive and all those thrills however…

Summer’s warm waters also brings

sharks closer to the shores.

Before you know it if your not careful

you’ll be swimming with sharks

turning the beauty of the ocean

into a scarlet tide

not only dark red deep

but terrifying

what once was so beautiful

can turn on you

you’ll be lucky if you make it out alive.

you’ll be lucky if you survive.

and that’s how I feel

as I struggle with my manic-depression.

It contains all the beauty of the entire ocean

but the sharks swim there too.

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Climbing 6/8/19

Haven’t showered in days.

Summer sticks to skin, Skin sticks to Skin.

hair is oily

lying in clumps.

motivation is secret and locked under key.

 

Something so simple

a clean hot shower

getting dressed-

Mt. Everest.

 

lack of self-care

just a symptom

of my bipolar disorder.

 

But I can fight.

I can climb those mountains,

and reach for the rain-

to wash away

all the dirt

of these feelings

to be clean again.

an iny_tRo_ duction

an iny_tRo_ duction.

Everyone’s a critic

Everyone’s a critic

they show their shadow side

unleashed behind the teeth

of a fake smile

they look at what you say, make or do

then they say it could’a been

oh so much better!

I understand and fully believe

in constructive criticisms~but please don’t

tell me these things I make or create

simply don’t work out

or that they plainly suck

when you remind me of the

back seat driver.

When was the last time you actually

made something yourself?

Or created something out of thin air?

Or molded some words into a poem, or a story?

Or made some snazzy drawing-still counts even if

it was made out of lunacy.

Don’t slam me for my efforts.

It’s unfair.

It’s not constructive criticisms.

It’s more like your just unimpressed

with any of my mundane efforts.

Why are people so quick to focus

on failures, or negatives or the bad & the ugly?

 

Love me gently…

Love me gently…

Love me loyally, love me silently and love me strongly.

Love me boldly.

Love me because you dare

to know me.

Love me gently…

as we whisper quietly.

Love me loyally, love me truthfully and love me dearly.

Love me as if you cherish me, even on the days you

do not.

Love me gently, love me with laughter and love me strongly.

Love me boldly.

Love me because you dare

to know me.

Because I will love you back

with all of my insanity, all of my sincere cracks in stability, somehow

I will channel all of my wildest moods

into the form of deeply loving you

and I will always be there

unless I get lost, on my way

of trying to come home to you.

I will love you loudly, soulfully and soundly.

I will love you gently too..

despite anything that comes between

me and you.

For you are my man & the only one

who really understands.

please just don’t stop

loving me, love me gently

so I do not break in half

like a cracked broken doll or

an empty ocean shell

please love me gently

and I will love you back,

totally

& completely

(although that probably sounds a bit creepy-it’s not, it’s just my way of talking-to say that I love you with everything I got…)

By Emily Sturgill 3/25/15

 

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Sadness grabbed there first.

Sadness grabbed there first

before I know what she was.

Sadness grabbed my heart She left

a white marked

trail

along the paths of veins and arteries.

ghostly fingers imprinted her mark

of fine woven sandy fingerprints

of the shadow of

an invisible sadness.

Sadness was a secret sister to me

she held me silently

even on all the days

I wept both crazy and madly.

Sadness she was with me

through everything

almost at all.

She cast a sudden sharp shadow

upon my happiest moments and

memories-She colored the most beautiful of days

into grayness colored ashes

the cremation of happiness

into an ugly urn

only I could see, while because Sadness

She touched me first there.

She grabbed my small heart

and left a lingering loneliness,

She left a longing for

teardrops unspent

a lingering romance

with her own tormentor and invention

a man in a blacken smog suit

some call

by the name

Depression.

 

 

Some bipolar artwork

 

10418311_10202380313264213_1680142073452811708_n Camera Somebody asked on a bipolar support group page for images that describe bipolar disorder or feeling-all I can show is Artwork I created during different phases of my illness mostly when I was manic but some are from depression too-as a viewer I leave it up yo you to fecide which is which??? All art are created by Emily H. Sturgill, All rights reserved. Feel free to share my images but please add my name at least to them if you use them-thanks, Emily SturgillCAM00335 back cover art before words3 copy advicecollage1 IMG_0445 you are the light at the end of my tunnel 12.4.12 digital art 6 cassette tape july 11 068

The thick & the thin

The thick & the thin

by Emily Sturgill

01/01/15

The thick & the thin

defines the mess we are in.

You always stand by me,

no matter how hard I

fall

from your graces.

Through the thin & the thick,

you always do catch me,

when I tumble then fall,

steadily crashing

busting into flames

before my mess hits the pavement

you have gotten me once again-

off the brick, the edges of lunacy

and the insane.

Through the good times and bad,

whether we are happy or sad,

through thick and through thin,

you are always one,

to cheer me on farther

to pass the finish line

to win

any race, when I bow down

breaking into pieces

shattering smile

broken in half

like an upside down clown.

You try to not judge me.

You simply stand there with nerve

and continue to love me.

Through the thin & the thin

look at the mess we are in!!

(dedicated to my hubby Dean)

Anger

Anger-01/01/2015 by Emily Sturgill

Anger is…

A rose color river

of flesh & blood

an eruption of Lava

a tornado without a passage

a volcano without any thought

a clinched fist you do not know you are making.

a tight grasp and grip

onto a stroke

of thunder & lightning.

Anger

this abstract emotion

Anger

is

this ugliest of potions

it swallows me whole

just to spit me back out.

I do hurtful things

to those I care

the most about.

Anger is fury

colored crayon color Red

It is

screaming, yelling and shouting

It does not

just break down the door-it kicks it right in!

10418311_10202380313264213_1680142073452811708_n

 

Anger

is universal. An emotion we all have gotten,

whether we care too, or not.

It is the litmus test of Forget-me-nots,

and roses turned spoil-

a lingering rotten smell

as feelings decay

as thoughts do stray

as humans hold grudges

as ships crash then burn

many shipwrecks occur

many wars do too

all in the name

of Anger, its felt universally,

much the same.

Awaken Freshly

Awaken Freshly-12/29/14

Emily Sturgill

i awaken way too early,

its just a fact of my bipolar story…

and my husband he sleeps

soundly.

as i awaken freshly.

wide awake-not enough sleep-

Wrestling with the morning

fighting with the Sun

telling it to go away

to leave me alone, scattered, messy

and undone.

Sometimes, the Secret Slumber is rather Elusive,

ghost-like, slippery, sneaking away

like a thief in the night.

Child-like, I have bad dreams

that disappear in the Sunlight.

Wishing I would-somehow-some-way

normalize

instead of fight the useless fight.

smashing

passion

into a garden of delight,

a garden of twilight,

a garden of no-light, a garden of darkness, a garden

which bears no fruit, except for one single red apple,

a serpent slipped me

and it weighs on me so heavily

like the burden

of all

femininity.

so I sit and stare,

and i awaken freshly

to dreams no longer

there.