Aspiring Poet, heartfelt thoughts.I Have Dystonia, bipolar, and an Avid Southern Gospel Music fan

 Let me set the scene for you: it was about a month ago when I applied for a job that seemed tailor-made for me. My resume checked all the boxes, my experience aligned perfectly, and I could practically hear the sound of my imaginary office chair swiveling as I prepared for my future in this role. Everything was lining up like the stars were rooting for me. And then, it happened. The letter arrived. At first glance, it had the usual polite opener: "Dear Applicant, Thank you for your interest in this position." But as I read further, the mood shifted dramatically: "Unfortunately, due to discrepancies in your polygraph test results, we regret to inform you that we cannot proceed with your application." Wait… what? Polygraph test results? That was strange because… I was there for the polygraph, but due to medical issues, they said it wouldn’t be a problem. They would move to the next phase! Now, I’m no detective, but it’s pretty hard to fail a test under those circumst...

  The Employer’s Gauntlet: An Interview Saga Imagine a parallel universe where employers must endure the same endless gauntlet of interviews that job seekers face. In this world, a hiring manager named Mr. Dingleberry found himself nervously adjusting his tie as he prepared for yet another interview—not to hire someone, but to keep his job posting open. As he waddled into the sleek glass conference room, he was greeted by a panel of sharply dressed candidates, all armed with clipboards, tablets, and icy glares. One of them, a stern-looking woman named Ms. Patel, motioned for him to sit. “Mr. Dingleberry,” she began, her tone sharper than a paper cut, “why should we trust you with the power to post jobs? What makes you think you’re qualified to run this job listing?” Dingleberry blinked rapidly, his mind racing. “Well, I’ve been in hiring for over 15 years—” “Ah, but how many quality hires have you made?” interrupted a bearded man with a clipboard. “We’re looking for someone...

Career Change The Adventures of the Job-Seeker Extraordinaire This week marked yet another chapter in my year-long journey through the labyrinth of job hunting—a journey filled with more twists, turns, and dead ends than a soap opera plotline. My trusty resume, which I thought was a beacon of professionalism, seems to be the equivalent of a Rorschach test for hiring managers. One employer told me my resume looked like AI had crafted it, which, frankly, felt like a compliment. I mean, who doesn’t want the latest in silicon-based perfection? Another decided I was overqualified. My favorite, though, was the company that said, "Your values don’t align with ours." Bold of them, considering they’ve never even met me. Did my resume accidentally include a paragraph about my stance on pineapple on pizza? At one point, I thought, "Maybe I should let AI actually rewrite my resume." But that idea evaporated faster than SpongeBob’s thought bubbles in that one episode wher...

 Living with mental illness or caring for someone who does is a journey that requires resilience, patience, and understanding. Unfortunately, even well-meaning comments can be hurtful or dismissive, especially when they stem from misconceptions. If you're seeking to support someone in this position, here are a few things you should avoid saying—and why. 1. “I understand what you’re going through.” No, you don’t. Unless you have personally experienced the same mental illness or caregiving situation, you cannot truly understand what someone else is enduring. It’s okay to empathize—to acknowledge their pain and show that you care—but claiming understanding can come across as dismissive. Instead, say something like, “I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you, but I’m here to listen and support you.” 2. “Just think positive.” Mental illness is not a mindset issue; it is a medical condition. Suggesting that someone can overcome their struggles through sheer willpower minimizes the se...

 The turn of the calendar brings with it a bittersweet mixture of reflection and hope. Last year’s burdens felt like an unrelenting storm, a tempest that tested not just my endurance but also my faith. Each day seemed longer than the one before, and each night was filled with whispered prayers—pleas for relief, peace, and understanding. Sometimes, those prayers felt like they disappeared into the void. Yet, they were the only thread that kept me tethered to hope. I’ve recently found solace in the simplicity of haikus. Their compact elegance has a way of expressing the inexpressible, of condensing emotions too large for prose into three short lines. As I reflect on the past year and look ahead, this haiku poured out of me: Through the tears of a rough year!  A year of trials, Heavy storms and quiet grief, Each day stretched so thin. Night brought restless prayers to God, Seeking mercy, peace, and strength. Now a new year dawns, Shadows lift with fragile hope. Still, I bow and p...

 As the clock struck midnight on New Year’s Eve, I didn’t feel the usual sense of hope or renewal that many associate with the start of a new year. Instead, I found myself reflecting on the year behind me—a year filled with challenges that have left me feeling like I am crawling into this new chapter with one hand and one leg missing. Last year was, without a doubt, one of the most difficult I’ve faced. It seemed like every step forward was met with two steps back. Moving to the family farm to care for Harvey, my father-in-law with dementia, was a decision rooted in love and necessity. It was a move that marked the end of one chapter and the beginning of another, one filled with trials I hadn’t anticipated. Coupled with being laid off from my job, the weight of responsibility and uncertainty felt like an anchor pulling me deeper into uncharted waters. Physically, mentally, and emotionally, I was stretched to my limits. My own battles with manic depression, schizophrenia, bipolar di...