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Memoirs of a Headcase: The Purpling

The alarm shrieks so I pound it quiet and with a fuzzy mind and pounding head retreat to fold myself within the sheets next to the warm body of my husband.  Nine minutes later the alarm shrieks once more and from somewhere deep inside, I feel the Holy Spirit nudging me to rise above the pain, above the loss, above the depression that pulls me down, down, down.  Soon children will wake, morning will hum, darkness will make room for light.  I push back the covers once more, I will obey, I will rise.  I will remember how He pushed back the darkness before, when I returned home from college with chronic migraines and spent over a year hiding and then learning to heal.  My vision darkened with purple auras that streaked and blurred my vision while the pain held me hostage.  God was with me then, He is with me now.


To tell the story of

the dangling participle

swinging slowly, surely

a giant pendulum

slicing in half my mind

sending off a spray of colors and sounds

in its wake

as I shake

sink into its lake

this ever great mistake

a year of learning and laundering

harvesting and killing

white thoughts,

black ones, too

while the green glow gives way to

The Purpling

seeping and suckling my toes

a great deep

in which to sink

lay here to think

within this stink…

Touching the line with my toes

running backwards

and stumbling round

beneath my bed

are all things red

while I imagine

a place to tuck away

this song with its dissonant chords

please crawl beneath this pain

and float outside

and I’ll meet you there

I promise, I promise.

“For in You, O Lord, do I hope; You will answer, O Lord my God.” Psalm 38:15 (AMP)