Be still

In this world of constant barrage of toxicity it is so important to sit with oneself. Take the time to just be. Breathe deeply. Picture pleasurable things in your mind. Waves coming in. Flowers in bloom. Then bring up scent memories. Your favorite perfume. The way your favorite person smells. The scent of coming rain. It’s a beautiful thing to be connected to one’s self.

#mentalhealth #balance

When One Door Closes…

My inside door handle has been broken for quite some time.

To avoid paying for a costly repair, I’ve just been pushing the auto button rolling the driver’s side window down and lifting the outside handle to exit my vehicle.

Yesterday evening I needed to run out for a short trip. I should mention the weather here has been below freezing for a few days. Upon my arrival to the drive-thru at my destination; I press the window button and can’t roll down my window..frozen.

After just a few moments of strange sign language between the cashier and I.

I pull away to find a parking spot and turn the heat up really high on defrost…but alas! To no avail! I am trapped.

Then, I decide to climb over a gear shift and bucket seats to the passenger door (don’t ask why I thought it would be unfrozen) on my climb over there is a cup of water from Wendy’s in cup holder which my behind mashes and sends icy cold water everywhere. Safely in passenger seat, sans dry jeans, I pull on the door latch to open and it breaks…now I have a matching set!

Then I climb back over and try driver’s window again…STILL frozen. šŸ¤” if I scoot my seat all the way back can I roll down the driver side passenger window and reach up to driver’s outside latch. Answer;My arms lack about an inch shy of making that happen.

So, let’s recap I’m trapped in my car, in a parking lot…wet butt…two broken doors, with a window that’s still not rolling down!

I start laughing…I’m laughing so hard tears are rolling.

Finally, the window frees itself. I go back around to the drive thru and I tell this story to the lady who begins to laugh as hard as I am, and make my purchase. No it was not alcohol but if I drank, I’m pretty sure this would have been an occasion for it.

BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE!

On the very short drive back to my home, the passenger side door that wouldn’t open, OPENS going up a hill. The door picked that moment to thaw out and fly open. Luckily it closed when I stepped on the brake.

I’m home..safe..and not going out until spring.

Still Reaching For Daylight

Angela Morrison

#iflifesabowlofcherrieswhyamiinthepits

#humor #life

Mirror…Mirror

Image from Google images.

My mirror has many opinions I wish it would keep to itself.
It’s casts shadows on my confidence.

The truth in 3D of age, stress, and strife.
A well worn image of life experience, all the travels through emotions laid out as a roadmap.

Trails of tears have led to pools of deep resting on my cheeks.
The signs of many many lost hours of sleep.
It speaks to me of criticisms from within.

If onlys are carried through my mind like a softly blowing wind.
Constantly haunted by the way it should have been.

Desperately trying to fit all the pieces together again.

Reaching for Daylight

Angela Morrison-Rakes

#depression #poetry #anxiety #bipolor2

Still..Reaching for Daylight

I originally wrote this poem about a year ago and titled it The Well. I have read and reread it since about a bazillion times. Made changes and edits, poets and writers will understand why.

I am now happy enough with it. (I think) I’ve given it a new title, I’m really happy with that!

Reaching for Daylight

I fall down deep into the darkness,the blackness of forever. A quiet so loud that nothing nor anyone can be heard.
I sleep the sleep of forgotten responsibilities. Curled up I cannot hear, I cannot speak. I don’t have to think.

I’m wrapped in a comfey blanket of gray, the opaque color of fog.
Where nothing can be seen clearly. Everything is cloaked in a saturated heavy misty gloom. Not dead, but certainly not living.

Arms and legs encased in concrete, prevent even the slightest move. Every mistake made, every self doubt keeps my brain screaming. Long ago words that were hurled like rocks hitting their mark are playing in my mind like some twisted loop.

On autopilot I accomplish the minimum. Canceled plans leave family and friends confused. I say I’m fine but that’s a mask. I’m unable to complete even the simplest of tasks.

As quickly as it came it sure is slow to leave. A greedy, sinister, interloper of my life has gobbled up all but a glimmer of light. It throws me down and sits on me until I can barely breathe.
But that glimmer is my saving grace starting as a whisper. I hear it low and faint. You must get-up and come back to the light, yes you can do it, but you’ve got to fight. The whisper increases volume GET-UP… GET-UP…GET-UP once more. You can do it, as many times before.

I begin to climb, claw, and scratch my way back. Im searching and searching for the path.
I plead to God for help with the baggage that I know I must unpack. Two steps forward and about 20 back.

I slide down a few times to the familiar darkness. Bruised, bleeding, and broken from my own thoughts. Hands are outstretched to me our fingertips brush. Just within reach, the whisper becomes clear…you must! You must perceivere.

Depression is an ongoing and an exhausting fight. But I know I have the strength within me to keep Reaching for Daylight.

Angela Morrison-Rakes

Images from Google search, I claim no rights to them.

#depression #poetry #writing

#family #light #love

The Truth

Afraid of the Truth an original painting
By: Rebekah Corah

The Truth

The truth lies somewhere between he said and she said.
Muddy water at best, a test to your emotions in your current space.
They said…. is tainted, be wary of others commentary on your truth.
Dig deep, you have to uncover the root.
If there is disease prune it off.
Nurture and talk to regrow strong.
Listen carefully make sure the information given is not wrong.
It’s often said the truth will set you free.
I’ve often found the truth is full of pain and misery.

Reaching for Daylight
Angela Morrison-Rakes
#art #poetry #writing

I claim no rights to published image found through Google search. I have given proper credit to the artist.

Crossroads

It’s been a trying few weeks in my world. They say, “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.” I’m not so sure about all of that.

One of my favorite poets is Robert Frost. One of my favorite works of his is the following poem.

The Road Not Taken

BY ROBERT FROST
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and Iā€”

I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

I love this poem for numerous reasons. It speaks to me about doing your own thing, it may not be what everyone thinks you should do, the less traveled path is often more difficult to navigate but it’s your path.

Everyone has opinions, advice, etc. But no one ever has a plan.

There are no knights in shining armor coming to rescue you. Everyone has to find their path, clear the weeds and the briars that sting and stick you. Then keep moving forward. You may fall. You may even come to a seemingly impassible trail. You may even create your own stumbling blocks inadvertently through ill thought out decisions. (I’m an expert) but you must move forward. And….

Keep Reaching for Daylight.

#life #journey #poetry #depression #anxiety #chronicillness

Escape

You started in the center
And carefully, methodically moved inch by inch. Meticulous construction, almost no obstructions.

Hardly a word to impede your progress with your web of lies.
You lay in wait for your chance to ensnare your prey.
Starting small, building big retreating to a dark corner to patiently wait.

My self esteem landed on your web. You slowly descended, killed it and wrapped it for a later snack.

Self identity became entangled next,who I am and what I wanted to be wrapped tightly until I could barely breathe.

Your song started sweet, a beautiful soft Melody beckoning me closer…… come sit near me and let me love you completely.

You wrapped me up and stowed me away for another day.

I have escaped your deceiving.
You say I’m beyond all reasoning.
Go ahead and spread those lies around.

All I am is a woman who one day woke up, and stood her ground.

Reachingfordaylight
Angela Morrison

Image from Google

#poetry #rising #women

Reaching for Daylight the painting

#Art #anxiety #depression #appalachian

Saturday, May 26th, I participated in the annual Heart of the Parks Art competition and show hosted by the Grayson Gallery and Community Art Center. This was my first ever art competition and I was very filled with anxiety and excited at the same time.

I have been displaying my work at the gallery for about three months.

The Judge for the competition was Joy Gritton. Ms. Gritton is founder and coordinator of the Eastern Kentucky Arts Project (EKAP). She currently teaches both Western and Non-Western Art History at Morehead State University and serves as coordinator of MSU’s Interdisciplinary Appalachian Studies program.

It’s quite ironic that my painting “Reaching for Daylight” won third place in the oil/acrylic catagory. Because this painting is about depression and anxiety.

My journey with depression began in my late twenties early thirties, it is a secondary to my chronic illness and the root cause was discovered after my first tumor discovery in 2003. After surgical removal of the tumor the depression improved but did not pack up and leave. This second tumor that I had rad for brought with it a new house guest…anxiety. Which in my opinion is worse than the depression. I have learned to deal with the depression…I reach out to friends, I begin projects, I try to take walks etc.

But this anxiety…it’s a demon. Panic attacks in the middle of shopping. Large crowds. Even while sleeping which is terrifying.

When I arrived and after setting up my art for the show I walked around to take a look at the other artists work. I could feel my anxiety rising…self doubt was growing rapidly. So much talent! Clearly these artists had been painting for years and formal art instruction. Bordering on a panic attack I went back to my car and called my husband (he was working). My voice was shakie and he immediately asks what was wrong…I explained that there were so many talented artists and paintings..I felt mine was not in their league.
He said, honey your work is uniquely yours and every bit as good as anyone else’s. So I took a deep breath and went back inside, talked with the other artists and worked through it.
I was awarded third place in the oil/acrylic catagory for Reaching for Daylight!

The rest of my work for this competition.

This is from my Appalachian Idioms series: Sexier than socks on a rooster gets a talking to from madder than an old wet hen.

Poorer than church mice.

Hotter than a Billy goat in a pepper patch.

Photo credit to Wanda Richmond.