I’m Setting Myself Free


I found such joy and freedom here on WordPress several months ago. I was on here all the time, every day. There was going to be an outlet for my writing, and it was so inspiring.

But my soul was slowly suffocating. And I let go of all the things that fuel me, that bring me any kind of happiness. Depression has ravaged my will, and it presses down on my chest and shoulders each day. Even now it feels like I’m going to make this declaration and it will change nothing for me.

I have worked so hard against this for years, for my entire life. I’ve fooled myself into believing that my willpower was enough–that I could stop hating myself, that I could love myself and take care of myself. But these were all Steps 2, 3, and 4. I missed Step 1. For me, I now know I need medication. My issue is a chemical imbalance I know it is. I can climb and climb against this but this illness is a glass ceiling that will inhibit me from going any higher. It will knock me down again and again.

So I’m going to make a doctor’s appointment, and I’m going to start blogging and writing again even if it’s shit. I need to live, not float through my life.

In an effort to connect myself and feel less hidden I’ve removed my pen name from my blog on WordPress and from my Tumblr. I was once Mandi O’Bryan on here, if anyone remembers me. But not anymore. I’m Becca. Just Becca. And I’m going to love that from now on.

I appreciate anyone that took
the time to read this.
Thank you.
♥ Becca N.


It is Impossible to Know You


It is impossible to know you.
Unmoving mouth, loud eyes.
Your eyes
scratching, biting,
they reach and they grab.
Like fire and daggers
clawing, piercing —
you look at me.

Your loud eyes, unmoving mouth.
How many words, novels,
waiting behind those lips?
An infinite biography in darkness
hiding away from my prying eyes,
but your eyes —
singing and screaming
are louder than words.

All thoughts and responses welcome~
♥ Becca N.

Always Anger


Why is anger so easy to come by? Has there ever been a shortage of anger? Nope! I know this, because damn have I been angry all day. There are certain people who can really spark my anger–I am talking instantaneous combustion. Even as an adult, my father is the one who makes me the most angry.

What is it with parents? Am I doomed to forever be one of those people who blame all of their issues on their parents? But this always sends me into a spiral anyway, because technically, aren’t they responsible for most of them? I digress. Having known the man that is my father my entire life, I’d like to think I have a good handle on his personality. I know what makes him tick. First and foremost, my father is always right.

The older I get, unfortunately, the more I learn. The more I learn, unfortunately, the more I see him talk confidently about things he has no idea. I am frequently witnessing him talk on subjects that I understand, and so I know that he is completely wrong. The natural response would be to inform a person that they are wrong, right? Not to rub it in their face, but rather so that they have the correct information…right? I would want the correct information! This is why I struggle to relate to him these days–my father doesn’t want the correct information.

In fact, even the correct information is still wrong. In fact, you are wrong for trying to act like you know more than him. No matter what, you lose. So the anger you feel gets internalized, it has nowhere to go. What then?

Why even feel the anger at all? Sometimes you don’t, other times it rages into existence like a charging train. And what about his anger? What does it do to you? So then what? All of these explosions of emotions slamming against one another, and then where do they go? Sometimes I feel as if anger shaves little slivers of my soul away each time I get mad about the same damn thing.

Sometimes I can cling to peace, sometimes I succumb.

Today, I succumbed, and I’m tired.

♥ Becca N.