I was recently diagnosed with Chiari Malformation Type 1. I’m not happy about it…and honestly..it stinks. I’ve been waiting for something to happen..to get real help..to find the right doctor before starting this blog. I wanted to bravely tell of my story with a happily ever after ending. Well, folks..it just ain’t gonna happen…not today.. and not venting about it..well..it’s making matters worse. I’m retreating inside myself, and that’s no bueno for me. So in the days and weeks to come..I’ll spill my Chiari story..hopefully into a tale that will someday help someone else with their journey.   For now..at least I got started..that’s a big step, so now…now I will try to sleep..comforted by the thought that I made a step, I started a new blog…I won’t be a victim hiding in the dark..never again..Chiari won’t beat me.

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An Essay of Transformation

Sadness envelopes me like a shroud. Spindly, grisly fingers of despair clutch my throat, the heaviness of grief slowly crushing my chest as rise and fall of respirations slows to a lethal pace.  Remaining bubbles of life-giving oxygen escape my body.  Numb with death, a single tear slips down my cheek, the only evidence life…

Hallways In My Mind

Hallways in my mind are made of brick. Red, rough edges of brick, mortar, metal lockers. Hallways of my high school in Mississippi. Cold metal, brick, glass windows. Cold feelings or  feeling cold? Not sure. Wait, quite sure.  Certain. I’m unable to feel. Everything feels cold, alien, void. Surreal. Alternate universe. Thoughts going through my…

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