Deep (Rage Poetry)

Deep

 

Betrayal runs deep –
the toxicity in your veins.

You poisoned my outlook,
my family.

A painful breakdown
leads to an equally painful breakthrough.

Your lies define
your place in the universe.

When you stomp on my dreams
you only get your shoes dirty.

My future is mine –
you won’t have a part in it.

Thank you for showing me
when to walk away.

Update on Writing Projects

I wanted to post a little update on my writing projects.

Freethought House, the publisher of my poetry book, was also going to publish my memoir about mental illness, recovery, and atheism. However, they recently had two people resign and they are no longer able to move forward with my project. I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with it yet. Maybe break it up and post it here or maybe find another publisher.

I recently submitted two entries to a short story contest. I rarely write fiction but I really enjoyed working on my entries. I am now convinced that I should spend a little more time working on fiction. Winners will be announced on October 31st and I’m currently looking for more contests to enter.

Also, I will be submitting my erotic poetry book to a poetry collection competition later this month. I have been working on this book for a really long time and this is the kick in the butt I need to wrap it up. 

I have been struggling with depression for the past few months and recently had a med change because of it. While I’m waiting for the meds to kick in, these writing contests seem to be the distraction that I need. I love to write and this is giving me something to work towards. I’m having a lot of fun with it.

As always, I am so grateful for your support. I will keep you all posted on my projects from time to time. Wish me luck with the contests!

“Forbidden” — a poem from my book, Free to Roam

Forbidden

I’m drowning in your choppy sea of innocence.
You’re ass-deep in constricting dogma.

If you got your chance,
what would you do to me?

Green eyes and icy fingertips stripping me naked,
a bite that burns with intention.

Would you pin me down out of years of frustration
or newfound emancipation? We’ll never know.

This secret fantasy only plays out in your head
because god is always watching.

Sweet dreams, farm boy.
I’m going home to wash your shame off my dress.

 

My poetry book gives an atheist perspective on being a Midwest Mom. It is for sale on my publisher’s site freethoughthouse.com, Barnes & Noble, and Amazon. (Signed copies are available at freethoughthouse.com.)

Get Out of Bed — Poetry from Another Broke Ass Millennial

Get Out of Bed

 

Fourteen dollars in the bank
and five days til payday –
I’ll hide in bed
because anxiety doesn’t cost a thing.

No fuel in my car,
no fuel for my feet,
no motivation to be found.
I want to stay in my room –
avoid facing a world I can’t afford.

Getting ahead is a lie.
It’s a never-ending game of catch-up
that I don’t want to play anymore.

A narrative all-too-familiar –
youthful dreams
burn in the barrel.
Expectations of yesteryear
are far out of reach.

I’m one missed paycheck
from disaster,
one heartache too many. 

Get out of bed
and make your voice heard.
Nothing changes
if we don’t rise up together.

Can’t move forward.
Can’t stay home.
There are mouths and minds to feed.
Don’t drown in silence.

Can you hear me?

“Mistreated” — A Poem from My Book, Free to Roam

Mistreated

Beads of envy line your forehead—
in your sick game,
you brought fire to the fight.
My impressionable spirit whets your appetite for attention.

Peck away at my frazzled brain.
My secret thoughts run down your chin.
Sour doubt and anxiety
appease your fickle cravings.

You could be anywhere—
watching, waiting, stewing in your misery.
Nowhere is safe.
You assert your crumbling power with fear.

A captive victim of your abuse—
your overbite stabs at my fragile existence.
You’ll never know the cost of your actions—
a price I’ll pay for the rest of my days.

I want vengeance
but I want freedom even more.
You’re gone but still very much present
in my broken brain.

Thoughts of progress are fleeting,
pain erodes hope.
Your suffocating grip lingers.
I’m shackled from my next chapter.

The cold shadow of trauma
blankets my world.
Maybe with time
healing light will creep back in.

 

My poetry book gives an atheist perspective on being a Midwest Mom. It is for sale on my publisher’s site freethoughthouse.com, Barnes & Noble, and Amazon. (Signed copies are available at freethoughthouse.com.)

Sexy Stranger Poetry — “Chance”

Chance

I lay awake at night
thinking about you
picturing your smile
imagining your touch.

I don’t want it to end.
Night will soon be morning
so I close my eyes
and hope I dream about you.

Always be with me
even if it’s just in my mind.
I wonder what it would be like
if you felt the same.

I won’t ever let go.
Life is too short
to not be in love.
I just want a chance to meet you.

Eating Disorder Recovery — Sharing a Little Bit of My First Journal

I started keeping a journal a little over a month before being admitted to the treatment center. I was seeing a local therapist every other week at the time, but my eating disorder soon became too much for outpatient appointments. There was definitely a point of no return where I knew I couldn’t go on – I had to get help. When I made that realization I felt I slight boost of energy – a slight glimmer of hope – that helped me get to where I needed to be. I needed it because it took some work to find the proper treatment for my symptoms. 

The door’s been cracked.
I can see light peaking through.
That slight glimmer of hope
is holding my head above water
for the moment…

 

I was constantly sick and on many days stayed home in bed. I missed my family’s Thanksgiving celebration which was the event that set the ball in motion. I knew I needed help at that point.

11/25/21

I’ve been very sick lately. It was like having the flu four times in two months. I went to my therapist crying. I knew something was really wrong. She said I needed to go inpatient. I’m still trying to figure it all out.

In middle school, when I started a habit of bingeing and fasting, the 6th grade me didn’t see our future. Deep down I know I’m a smart woman and I never meant for this to happen.

 

I felt I needed to make some notes to prepare for my phone assessments with two different treatment centers.

11/28/21

List of Symptoms

– Gag and spit out food at almost every meal.

– Sometimes vomit

– Very, very picky. I won’t eat fruits and veggies and I don’t like the taste of meat. Things I used to like don’t taste good anymore. The selection and variety of foods I’ll actually eat are getting smaller and smaller.

– I skip meals. Sometimes I eat one meal in the afternoon.

– Sometimes I eat food out of the trash.

– Sometimes if I find a good I really like I’ll binge because I don’t know the next time I’ll find food I like. I find comfort in eating a lot of the foods I like but it always leads to me feeling out of control.

– I eat the same foods over and over again. Right now I’m stuck on turkey sandwiches – as long as there’s a lot of mayo or dressing so I can’t taste the meat.

– I’ve been feeling very sick physically for the last two months. I see a GI doctor and he’s done lots of procedures and tests (endoscopy, colonoscopy, bloodwork, stool sample, ultrasound and MRI of abdomen) and hasn’t found any medical causes for my illness.

– I feel my hunger signals are messed up right now. Sick or hungry?

– My weight is affecting my health (high blood pressure and cholesterol) 

– Diabetes has been ruled out with recent bloodwork.

– I’m overweight and upset about it, but I feel more afraid of food than I am of gaining more weight.

What I Want From Treatment

  • Stop feeling sick
  • Regain control
  • Lose weight

What I Fear About Treatment

  • Getting even fatter
  • Not getting better/unwilling to make changes
  • Family unwilling to make changes

Tuesday 1:30pm – assessment

 

Finding the proper treatment was even harder than I thought.

12/3/21

The steps to recovery
are covered in mud,
there’s no handrail,
upper floors don’t exist,
and the climb is steep.
I’m out of breath
and wearing the wrong shoes.

 

This is part of a letter I wrote when one treatment center suggested outpatient due to my rumination disorder:

Thank you for taking the time to do my assessment last Tuesday. However, I feel like I am screaming out for help and no one is listening. I am desperate.

My eating disorder has consumed me. It is an everyday battle that I am losing. It has negatively impacted my functioning and relationships. I have missed work and family gatherings. My husband has become somewhat of a caregiver and my impressionable young daughter is watching me suffer. Everyone in my life is worried.

I am very sick and very miserable right now. I am losing weight and am concerned about my health.

I have started looking for a dietician and occupational therapist like you suggested, however, I don’t think outpatient is going to cut it at this time. I need daily help to get me back on track. 

Please help. I am really struggling and I’m begging you to reconsider.

Thank you,
Megan Rahm

When I wrote that letter I felt absolutely desperate and thought it was a long shot. However, that letter is what got me the treatment that I needed. I learned to advocate for myself which can be extremely important when it comes to healthcare. This is literally what saved me.

Prior to writing this letter, I was turned down by another treatment center also for rumination disorder. They said it would trigger the other patients. I thought I was running out of options so when I got a response to my letter I sobbed. I couldn’t believe it worked and that I would finally get treatment.

 

12/6/21

Went to my therapy appointment. We talked a lot about how anxiety, OCD, and grief all contribute to my eating disorder. She said I’m holding a lot inside.

She’s probably right.

Treating my eating disorder is going to be a long and difficult process. I feel like going to the treatment center when I was 21 was merely putting on a band-aid. There’s a lot of work to be done yet.

I admitted to my therapist that I held back when I saw my GI doctor last week. They asked if I had been feeling sick (nausea, stomach pain, diarrhea) and I said no. I thought – what’s the point? I’m getting treatment for my eating disorder soon.

I hope my writing will expose the process of getting treatment – just how difficult it can be, all the hoops you have to jump through when you already feel like shit. It takes a lot of strength and courage.

My therapist said that story needs to be told.

This was my second round of treatment – nearly twenty years after the first – and I documented every minute of it. 

From time to time I will be sharing bits and pieces of my journals here.

A Little Pick-Me-Up

Here’s a little poem I wrote while in treatment…

Rise from the rubble
like the badass that you are.
The world came crashing down
but you have the strength
to build it back up.
Brick and mortar,
concrete and steel —
don’t let anything knock you down.

Some recent events have really put my recovery to the test, but I made it. I survived.

In this moment, I’m feeling a lot of strength and love. I don’t believe in prayer or good jujus or anything, but I hope in some way you’re feeling it, too.

A Poem from My Book, The Housewife Who Ruled a Kingdom

I have been working for a while on my second poetry book, The Housewife Who Ruled a Kingdom, and I would like to share a poem with you. I consider the book erotic although it is more about the housewife than the sex. The housewife is torn between her loving and devoted husband and a sexy stranger she’s obsessed with. 

 

His Name

My sexy stranger
has a name
but I don’t dare
speak it.

He’s a real person
but my fantasy
is far from his reality —
a world created in my mind.

All I have is a picture
and an imagination.
I’ve made him into
a man that doesn’t exist.

My loving husband —
faithful and kind —
he’s all that I need
so why do I want more?

Lustful, sinful,
invading my restless mind —
I strip this stranger bare
but we’ll never meet.

Guilt and shame
come entangled
with my thoughts.
Why is my focus divided?

This stranger is
hundreds of miles away
but in my mind
there’s no such thing as distance.

My faraway lover
consumes me
stealing my time, productivity —
my life is distracted.

I’m guilty
of diverting my attention
from my family, my world —
a world this stranger will never be a part of.

A harmless seduction?
A fantasy of the forbidden —
is that why
I like it so much?

A private encounter
that will never happen —
a secret
I will never spill.

I love my husband —
my partner, protector, provider —
so why
do my thoughts betray him?

It’s a terrible affliction —
a tale of two men —
both give me
warmth and poetry.

I’m torn between fantasy and reality
but my sexy stranger
will never know.
I don’t dare speak his name.

“Girl Mom” – Sharing a Poem from My Book, Free to Roam

I haven’t done this in a while…here’s a poem from my book, Free to Roam: Poems from a Heathen Mommy, published last year by Freethought House.

Girl Mom 

How do I protect my daughter
from having the stories all women have,
from fearing the night
and walking alone? 

How do I protect my daughter
when rapists run for president,
when boys will be boys,
when an accusation is too frequently overlooked? 

How do I protect my daughter
when she doesn’t have a say
when her body is property
and legislation dictates her future? 

How do I protect my daughter
from seventy-eight cents to the dollar
from taxes that come in pink
from old and rotten expectations? 

How do I protect my daughter
from the shards of glass
when she destroys the glass ceiling
and leads the way in a man’s world? 

How do I support my daughter
when she no longer needs my protection?

 

My poetry book gives an atheist perspective on being a Midwest Mom. It is for sale on my publisher’s site freethoughthouse.com, Barnes & Noble, and Amazon. (Signed copies are available at freethoughthouse.com.)