Damaged (revisited)

I sit with myself

In uncomfortable silence

My suppressed screams

Ringing in my ears

Tears running down my face



All my demons

All my insecurities

Have come out to play today

Mocking me with their laughter

Taunting voices

Sing-song in my head


Shit mother

Shit wife

Shit niece

Shit cousin

Shit friend

Shit human being


Over and over

An endless loop

Of recrimination


On days like this

I can’t even remember who

I am anymore

I don’t know

What is mine to claim

I am no one

I am pain


I read an essay right before Christmas

Calling for compassion

For those “poor unfortunate souls”

Who are depressed over the holidays

Who engage in self-harm

Who contemplate suicide

The author referred to them as “damaged”

My hackles went up

“Only I get to call me damaged, lady,”

I wanted to angrily respond


Only I get to define the frantic dance

My neural synapses have been engaged in

For the last year

No one else gets to name

My crazy for me

No one gets to pity me

Not even me

Especially not me


If there are awards given out

For running on sheer will

And stubbornness this past year

I should at least

Be on the nomination list

Look  for my name under


Bipolar Disorder



I’m still breathing


© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved



      1. Very true. When it comes on for me it comes on hard. Then it just lingers in the background and is never really gone. But i do get times, hours, moments of peace fortunately. It just takes a lot of work.


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