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The Noise Inside: Calming the Inner Storm
Coping with Anxiety
Anxiety isn’t just worry. It’s the pounding in your chest when everything is quiet. The racing thoughts that keep you up at night. The fear of losing control when no one else can see the storm building inside.
We often minimize anxiety, brush it off with, “I’m just stressed,” or “I need to get it together.” But the truth is—anxiety is real, valid, and deeply human. At Poetic Bipolar Mind, we embrace the discomfort of anxiety with compassion, not shame.
Healing doesn’t mean silencing the storm—it means learning how to sail through it. It means grounding yourself with deep breaths when your mind spirals. It means naming what you feel, without judgment. It means choosing to rest, not because you’re lazy, but because your body and mind are crying out for safety.
Start small. Anchor yourself in the present. Try five deep breaths. Feel your feet on the ground. Hold something warm in your hands. Say your name out loud. You are not your thoughts. You are the space that holds them.
There is no shame in being overwhelmed. There is courage in facing the tide.
“You don’t have to control your thoughts. You just have to stop letting them control you.” — Dan Millman
Healing begins in the moment you choose gentleness over pressure, awareness over panic, presence over perfection.
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The River Knows My Name
By the river’s edge, a woman mourns an unseen child, her voice breaking into mist and echoes. Through shadows, ravens, and restless water, her grief becomes clarity. The River Knows My Name is a gothic meditation on freedom, loss, and the haunting beauty of choices carried alone.
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Eternal Expressions
Hieroglyphics and statues were not mere artifacts—they were Egypt’s testimony against time. From rigid depictions of divine order to individualized portraits of wisdom, these forms carried memory and spirit. On Poetic Bipolar Mind, I see writing as a similar practice: a modern hieroglyph, preserving lived experience against silence and forgetting.
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Bound by Time and Memory
Dave White’s Forgotten Soul and Kiana Jimenez’s poem intertwine in a meditation on eternal love, memory, and entrapment. Chains, locks, and flickering candles mirror verses of clocks and longing, creating a haunting narrative of two damned souls bound together beyond time’s reach, refusing to fade even as shadows close in.