When concussions strike a young mind, life is spent in emotional management. It would be fourty-five years before a diagnosis could be made and the healing process could begin, but the mind started early. It was tired of the confluence of negative emotions and began the unification through poetry. One part was putting together the theme, another was putting it into words, and yet another was organizing the flow. The mind is an amazing place to wander about in, much more so these days than then. And when the soft voices speak from within it is a good idea to listen.
These are the works from the depths of deeply severe anxiety. Which at one point had me bedridden with fear for nine months. This collection reflects the onset/concussions and emotional trauma. The long, enduring run through the confusion, pain and acceptance that I was broken. The deep desire for love. The diagnosis and the resulting determination to heal. Love found then lost. Relapse with grief, and recovery.
I have worked hard to put these works out there. Trust me in this; doubt still wants to have its say.
I suppose it is best to just say, I hope you enjoy the read much more than I rued the walk.
