A, I know this post is a few days old. I still want to share. Maybe, someday. I will be able to link to you, exactly what kind of clarity you gave me in my own life. I recommend to people, reading her links she has also laid out for us. In the words of Victo in a previous comment. “You put together some of the most beautiful post” Thank you, again!
Dear Lily June,
I’ve probably said this to you before, but one major part of being a writer is being a collector. It’s both crazy-making and healing: Every image I’ve seen is seared into my brain, every passage I’ve read has been packed tightly in the chaotic library shelves of my mind.
Having a mental illness that causes me to organize, list, store, and obsess usually aids me creatively. But how does having a creative habit that causes me to hoard, compare, ruminate and obsess affect me mentally? That cuts both ways, sometimes driving me into despair, other times giving me hope that pain can always be channeled into poetry.
When you can’t let things go, you can’t let them go. Every pain I experience, read or write is an echo. It’s a steel-winged irony.
Still, I know that dwelling too deeply–diving down into the same waters that, at points like this, threaten to drown me–isn’t…
View original post 1,811 more words