Love 3/9/13 by Emily Sturgill

Love like


senses ignorance-

reading among youth groups.


among purple, bicycle stars

that nurse

creativity as a hobby.


hope is perverted

by rules,

laws and rituals.


Love, Hope & Peace-

are the fabrics

upon which

dreams are weaved.

Beneath the Depths

Beneath the depths by Emily H. sturgill

written on sunday 11/10/13

Beneath the Depths-

off the deep end, the depth,

of a Dog.

a Jaded wish, golden green


with another:

Detroit Depression.

Staring, down the barrel of

Trust, as a Daydream.

Drawing Pictures of Picasso’s Peace-Motion.

Cover me in Oceans,

as the birds form,

my Sister’s Staircase.

Covered in sea-shells and glistening

in Sands.

She escaped Michigan,

for the Sunrise of Florida,

and the promises of Eternal

Sun-filled Days.

Here in Michigan,

I will stay, staring down,

another Detroit Daydream.


Being bipolar can really suck sometimes…U

The nature of the “crazy-beast” is that when you are crazy, or going crazy then you do not believe you are crazy.

I know that there is a cliche about that, but unlike most cliches, this one is definitely true.

I know first-hand, because I am “bipolar 1-with psychotic features” -although current groovy dr. just shortens it to being bipolar or having manic-depression. It is more than a label. It is an illness. But it is a treatable one.Not easy to have nor to treat, but it is possible, to live a semi-normal life while being bipolar.

I think i am one of the lucky ones. I was diagnosed roughly 21 years ago-in 1992. Since then, I have amassed a huge group of friends, family, and trusted allies. It is vital to staying well to have some sort of support-network, whether its friends, family, church, priest, rabbi, minister,siblings,spouses,employers ect. You need objective persons in your life who can look out for you when you are not objective. If your really bipolar-you will not always be 100% objective. It is the nature of the “crazy-beast.”

I just had a major break-through last night. I realized I have been having some sort of episode-hypomania or mixed-mania, with paranoia, for at least the last two weeks. I called my Dr this morning to confirm this-(my husband already did confirm though) and to just let her know- i was on the same page now. I knew I had been sick. I complimented her method of handling it. Unlike past doctors I had had at Community Mental health-she did not directly address this issue that i was “sick”. She is an excellent doctor, by the way. I first saw her back in 1998-2000. i stopped seeing her because i took advantage of her, during an episode to get her to prescribe me medications i had no attention of correctly taking. It was long ago i was only 26.

I decided to swallow 30 depakote and kill myself. It was dramatic and extreme.I really violated her trust in our relationship.But soon after i did that stupid stupid thing i began to change my mind…when my boyfriend-(now hubby)-got home from a midnights job i confessed everything and he rushed me to the nearest hospital, most likely saving my life. I was given charcoal and was in the ICU for four days straight. That was my first and last ever serious suicide attempt.

After that my doctor broke up with me- i don’t blame her at all for this. So i started going to Community Mental Health. I went on and off for years-the off parts were during episodes….

2 years ago, yesterday, i married my boyfriend of 11 years. My health insurance changed slightly. We had wrongly deduced if we were to get married i would lose my Medicare and Medicaid-so he put me on his Blue Cross Employee insurance. Now CMH refused to treat me saying they did not accept blue cross.

I called my old doctor. I was very persistent, and convincing. I explained I had grown up a lot since she last treated me. I ask if i could please be her patient again? She was hesitant, but willing to give me a second shot.That was almost 2 years ago. I am so thankful she said yes to being my doctor again. She is the best and my most favorite doctor I have ever had in the over two decades of this madness.

Fast forward to the past two weeks….I became very irritated, the day after ,the day after, my 39th birthday. So like 2 days after my birthday-may 21-i lost my shit. May 23rd was terrible, but May 24th and 25th were much worse.

I guess it was a hypo-mania-(mild mania) or a mixed state-(both depressed and manic mixed together.)

If my doctor confronted me about being paranoid or manic, I would have stopped speaking with her-probably even fired her as my doctor.

instead, she choose to just listen-after i found myself in a safe shelter house for women with domestic violence she started increasing my meds.

we did have a small mishap with that-she raised my lithium too high-while i did not go toxic-i had dangerous symptoms and had to be briefly hospital2ized over night. My lithium levels never been that high before-it was 1.25.So she lowered it back down to its normal dose. And just raised other meds.

Eventually, i decided to forgive my hubby and came home two nights ago. At first, i still thought i was in my right mind-but then my doctor wanted to raise my sereoquel XR some more. A couple hours later, i realized with her frequently raising my meds, i must be having another episode. I cried hysterically for over  2 hours while mu husband just held me and told me that he still loves me. i was devastated.I was confused but coming to my senses.

And i was safe, he was safe, we were still married-it was going to be ok. To be honest, i am even crying as i am writing this-I feel cheated somehow, but by my own mind…i do not understand how i could so quickly get sick again-without typical warning signs? It is a very scary feeling to be paranoid. Especially terrified of friends and family who love you. I thought it was all hubby’s fault. What i mistook as physical abuse was him trying to restrain me and keep me from running away-i always run away….usually nowhere safe or good. This time was a bit better- i wound up in a safe place.

All i can say is bipolar disorder is a serious illness and “crazyness is a beast.” which is difficult to contain.


writing on auto-pilot,

flying on a wing and a prayer.

words flow like water here,

but hence-force,

once they start, they stop making sense.

and i

just observe the clitter–clatter of my key board keys,

on my broken -down lap-top

right here in front of me…

wondering why,

do I even try to string together,

sentences like pearls or strands

of fabulous, fantastic beads.

This garnish of the random-

word-parsley on my plate.

Writing on automatic, it’s so hard-

to articulate. A feeling. or a Moment..

I grasp this beaded necklace-

of my words, and dangle them dancing

by and by

my ears,

yet they fall silent

upon retrospection.

I gasp aloud at my reflection.


I robot and other fairy tales…

i robot, and other fairy tales
by Emily Sturgill

We live in a digital age. Everything is computerized.From our “smart phones.” to our DVR players, to our video games, and our “app stores”-
Everything is run by electricity and it’s all computerized.
You can get your favorite pet-micro-chipped, but not your husband or wife,
just yet…sooner then later that will also be the norm.

With all this advanced technology, you would expect that it unites people,
but i will go out on a limb and say, it divides people too.

All this computer-tech-savy-ness, takes us apart from others. It isolates us.
How many times does my husband have to come home from work and run straight to his desktop PC, to check his MyFace, or email or news, before i begin to feel invisbile…or at least i would if i would not already listening to music or watching tv or writing on my blog or checking my own email…

So many of these techno-activities are solo. They are done solitary. I really do not understand internet dating-although I know persons who have done it and I try not to judge. I’m a far cry from a luddite-I’m just as addicted to my internet as everyone else around me.

but every once in a while, my mood descends like the Sun going down for the Day. I simply crash, not my computer, but my system-my personal bodily system. I turn the damn computer off. I turn off the cellphone. I take a nap sometimes. Today I spent 2 hours painting with watercolors.

These are somethings to do to charge your human body-batteries:
1. take a walk
2. play with a child
3. read a book
4.plant a garden
5. look for animal shapes in the clouds, outside, in the sky
6.connect with nature-go talk to a tree or better yet hug one.
7. read a book-no not a digital book-a real one where you can bend the corner to mark your place on the book’s page
8.Spend time with pets or animals
9.Spend time with family-eat dinners together
10. make real live face chat with your friends-the ones in real life.
11.Watch a sunset or sunrise.
12. At night try to see the constellations.
13. Make somebody laugh today.

I’m sure you have your own lists. My question is do we really own our laptops, computers, smartphones,email accounts, video-games or are these the things which own us the most?

i robot or is it just another modern day fairy tale?

Sugarcoated Sorrows

Sugarcoated Sorrows,
and unplanned

A plum-fairy coated in fine-grained
leaving a bitterness to Sorrows darkest
diabetic charms.

The icing is on the cake, they say,
While you are not even,
better today.

Frustration mounts,
well past the age of tooth-fairies,
the grisly older person’s mouth.

As sometimes some teeth,
gotta get the hell out,
to make room for better tomorrows.

What to do with you?
I really cannot say, I am not the praying
girl, i was once before.

I only long to linger,
to sugar-coat, all of your,

I try to free-verse,
the saga, into a tail-spin,
of much better news.

That’s all i can do,
or think of right now,
a sugar-coated tomorrow

and a bit of happiness,
in the clucth,
left in your purse, a single lucky penny,
there resides.

Something sinful

Sunday brings something

sinful to me, something simple, something slight.

lacking luster, lacking delight.

i wonder if, the pain will cover me-

in waves again.

Sunday brings something,

sinful to me, a strange empty, a feeling

which mocks the freedom, the freedom of everything,

as solitude rings into my ears. Something does

not feel right today, something feels like,

a slender thread tied to a disaster.

Pain comes in oceans, it comes in waves, it feels sharp

like broken glass or little shark-teeth, as the window brings the light.

Life feels strange, as a dog scratches, at my door again.

Life feels like something sinful,

something shocking but so hard,

to really remember,

the de ja vu,

have i been here before? Have i heard this before? A dream, which surpasses,

all memory.

in a flash of light without magic mirrors

without black smoke

i awoke.

in a passing state of normalcy,

as I wonder why

I feel strange to the touch

something tingles my spine,

something so yesterday

something so blind,

had to share…

that last post I had to share, in case you did not see it,

because I am a big fan of both Nina Simone and Bille Holiday too.

I am also a fan of Ettta James. I love the Blues, just because, I do.

One of my favorites was James Hooker, also known as Jonhny Lee Hooker or John Hooker. My favorite diddy by him is a song called boom boom boom.

I’ve found over time, when I listen to The Blues, I am usually happy or the music just makes me feel happier. I listen to real all types/a different slice/of life.

Sometimes beats/are classical,

Sometimes beats/are magical.

Sometimes music/can be very emotional.

Sometimes music/makes me sad.

A soft sad ballad/ a soprano

a deep moody, woman’s alto/thinking of adele

some music is light/uplifting/pop/or rock/or alternative.

some music is funny/tom waits/nick cave.

sometimes music just makes me feel just about everything.