As a poet, I do horror, but I also do mental health and mental illness, explore topics like self-harm and suicide, and write about love and change.

All give me a unique perspective on brokenness.

See, if I push my characters in these horrifying tales to their absolute breaking point, what happens? They reveal their true character. They rebuild themselves stronger, ready to take control. Whether or not they can get it is another matter. That moment a victim becomes the master of their own fate, decides they’re not going easy, they’re gonna dish out some of what they’ve been taking, is just beautiful to see.

With toxic relationships of any kind, the moments I write about where I set fire to the ties that bind are absolutely moments of strength following a period of brokenness. I can rebuild. I can reclaim myself as my own person with my own vision.

Mental illness is a bully. It’s the voice of every bully you’ve ever encountered mocking you in your head every single fucking day, and yeah, it breaks you down. Breaks you down enough that physical pain feels better, that death seems like a welcome reprieve from your mind. It’s a brokenness a person that’s never experienced it can never imagine. Still, I can rebuild from that moment.

I’m in constant competition to beat my own milestones. I have learned to seize some control by being honest with my therapist and my friends and my partner. I created a community. I help others. I vent all those excess feelings into my writing. I get better so I’m less vulnerable to the bullshit my illness pulls.

Broken is the state where we have the most possibilities. Nothing to lose, everything to gain. Brokenness is like clay that we can mold into who we want to be instead of who we’ve been up until that point.

It’s okay to admit that you feel broken and don’t know what to do. I’ve felt that way many times and never knew what to do, and I’m still here. You learn by doing. You learn by slowly building yourself up into someone that you love and will fight for.

Mental illness, physical illness, chronic illness, disability, other forms of neurodivergence- it doesn’t matter. You deserve to see yourself positively, to want what’s best for yourself, to decide you’ve finally had enough of other people’s nonsense, to stand up for yourself and chase your dreams.

Often, the realization that you need to do those things comes in the moments you feel the most broken.

Here’s a secret: You’re not broken. You’re just more malleable. You’re more ready for change and growth. You may feel like you shattered, but that was just you releasing a ton of dead weight that crashed to the ground. Cracks and dents are in now. No one wants perfection. You’re not really broken. You’re not irreparably damaged. You’re just in your rawest, most changeable state. Embrace it.