Christian Sampson
I have obsessive compulsive disorder. OCD. The reason why I use the full name is 95% because it’s good writing practice to define your acronyms, and 5% because Target decided to sell a sweater this past Christmas season with the words "OCD: Obsessive Christmas Disorder" charmingly knitted on it.
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Joelle Poulos
when you’re the Dead Dad girl
who leaves the party with two boys—just friends—
to see who can leap the farthest off the swing
Michael Peter Ancher, The Sick Girl
Almost a decade ago, I woke up in extreme pain--my eye was bloodshot and I was experiencing extreme photophobia. When I say my heart was breaking from pain, I mean it. For nights, I sat in the bathtub in the dark. I could barely attend my grad school classes without taking a break outside the room, breathing deeply in and out--trying to convince myself that I wasn't losing my mind. I wasn't going to just die from pain.
Doctors kept telling me I was experiencing contact irritation, but that wasn't the case. How many people does it really take before a sick person can be believed? It took nearly a year to get any clarity at all, actually--I had to keep speaking up, keep saying that I didn't feel normal. That it wasn't OK. At first, I was diagnosed with Uveitis, which is an inflammation of the middle layer of the eye that happens to make Pink Eye look like a fucking unicorn and rainbows dream come true. It later came to be, after years of joint pain and inflammation, that I had Ankylosing Spondylitis, inflammatory arthritis that affects the large joints and the spine. And this is what caused the Uveitis, which is chronic, and which I will suffer from again.
It's hard to be a healthy-looking 20-something while having an invisible illness. It's hard to say, "I can't meet up tonight, my knee is killing me." I mean, I'm not 70. My knee?! But the pain continues, and the future is unclear. It makes me lethargic, and it makes me grumpy. Because having arthritis just sounds ridiculous to other people. It also sounds less real, somehow. After all, it's not cancer. I am not dying. That much is true, and I am grateful for that.
I don't think that needs to be the marker, though. I don't think we need to be on death's door to openly discuss the pain of being alive. And with that idea in mind, this issue is for and by everyone with an invisible illness, a mental health issue, a chronic illness or a disability. We'll be publishing content through Friday and you will see a variety of forms--poetry, fiction, essay, comic, photography. We're so honored to have so many beautiful pieces of work, and we're touched that our writers were so vulnerable, so honest, so compassionate.
We had hundreds and hundreds of submissions. It wasn't easy to decline work. It wasn't easy to say no to such heart. Everyone who submitted to this Issue matters to us, and we appreciate everyone who will read, share and create dialogue around this Issue.
I am so thankful for the editorial team here. Extra special thanks to Joanna Valente--who oversaw a lot of the production and edited the majority of this massive issue--and Alaina Leary for spearheading the initial creation of this issue. Huge thanks goes to Nadia Gerrassimenko, who is a fantastic editorial support--from helping with logistics to drafting content to promoting our writers on social media to having a big hand in the aesthetics. We couldn't do it without you.
I can't wait to hear your thoughts on our writers' work. Thank you!
- Lisa Marie Basile
Gabriel Isak
For the first time in my life I crave cigarettes, I feel the pull of drugs and, though I’ve been vegetarian for ten years, the concept of greasy chicken is tantalizing. I want what isn’t good for me. I want what will kill me first, but I need enjoyment in the process. While I have the capacity to feel, I want to feel it all. I want the aches and the pains and the laughter. I want to consume large amounts of alcohol to make everything funny or interesting, to talk like I have something to say, and to listen likes it matters. I want the morning to be black, the day to be empty--just lying still, concentrating on being alive. The same as every other day, only my body responds and my mind doesn’t matter.
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Gabriel Isak
Then she said, almost in passing, "They said I poured bleach into my eyes, can you imagine such a thing?"
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Josefa Holland-Merten
Maybe you find it hard to concentrate at your 9-5 or maybe you work from home and need a little pick-me-up. Regardless, these songs are sonically stunning and breathtaking--often taking you into a different world--and transporting you into your deep thoughts. All while you work.
Read MoreDebora Lidov’s short collection, Trance (Finishing Line Press, $14.49), contains poems of surprise, elegance, originality, wit, irony, beauty, dark humor, precision, pain, and lyricism. That is a long praise-list and could set up a reader for impossibly elevated expectations, but the high-stakes’ focus of these poems makes anything less than a full layout of its attributes a little lame.
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When we’re young, we can say things like, “I want to be an astronaut and a rock star” or “I want to be president one day, but also a princess.” And we can get away with it. We can get away with these extravagant ambitions because, starting out on our journey, we are encouraged to explore, to be curious, and to be everything that we can be.
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Nathan Anderson
It is really astounding how many self-proclaimed “open minded” people are actually closed off vicious judgmental creatures. It’s hilarious, actually. Then again, my main mode of handling sad stuff is via laughter, so there we have it.
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Puma is New York City. Puma is why New York City is cool. I read her full-length collection Retrograde (great weather for media, 2014) on the subway, while listening to The Cure, walking around LES, and wandering at Coney Island. In many ways, the collection is best read while traveling, as so much of it concerns human movement, both physical and emotional.
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Via Pinterest
I was 15 when I first heard Fiona Apple’s Tidal and No Doubt’s Tragic Kingdom. Side by side, the albums have little correlation. No Doubt’s 14-track ska/punk masterpiece is full of mostly upbeat anthems like “Spiderwebs,” “Excuse Me, Mister” and “Just a Girl.” Not long after No Doubt’s videos made it to MTV’s lineup, avid grrl fans were buying Dickies and “wife beaters” and incorporating too many sit-ups into their afternoons as a result of Gwen’s tomboy-meets-sexpot look.
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Carli Jeen
I loved going to graduate school and being immersed in writing. Having the opportunity to study with my mentors and peers was one of the most rewarding experiences of my life—and I learned a lot during the two years it took for me to get my degree. But there was something auspiciously missing from most of our discussions— how to create diverse characters.
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Christiane F. (1981)
I am 15 years old, and the word "slut" is already part of my everyday life. I remember the first time that objectionable word slipped out of somebody’s mouth, soaring in my direction. Piercing me. I could not feel anything, except for my stomach dropping.
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Nadia Maria
The TV always needs to be on. Sleep rarely comes, but having a dark, silent room certainly aids to the insomnia. My particular comfort in crime shows can be a bit disconcerting, but it’s just background. The television is even sometimes left on during sex, much to the beloved’s chagrin, but serves as a quiet pastime for myself after he inevitably dozes off.
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