Mama put my guns in the ground I can't shoot them anymore That cold black cloud is comin' around And I feel I'm knockin' on heaven's door ~Bob Dylan
You know the nearer your destination
The more you're slip slidin' away
And I know a father who had a son
He longed to tell him all the reasons for the things he had done
He came a long way just to explain
He kissed his boy as he lay sleeping
Then he turned around and he headed home again
Slip slidin' away
Sometimes I find it's a shame when I get feelin' better when I'm feelin' no pain
So, no, woman, no cry. No, woman, no cry. I say, oh, little—oh, little darlin', don't shed no tears. No, woman, no cry. Eh. ~Bob Marely
The stress of a large home renovation then subsequent bronchitis throws me into a bipolar episode...
I would ask total random strangers to look into my eyes and see the flecks. The flecks are magic, I would say. Um....No words.
A week after my precious son was born, I was in a strait-jacket, face down on the floor of a rubber room. Helloooooo postpartum psychosis.