My debut collection was released yesterday on Amazon (Ebook & Paperback), Kobo (Ebook) , and Barnes & Noble (Ebook). This is a short, but I hope powerful, anthology about my narcissistic chilchood trama and my recovery as well as my Huntington’s Disease diagnosis. The blurb and a poem excerpt are below.
Blurb:
There is nothing more terrifying than realizing there is no hope.
Overcoming a traumatizing childhood, abuse and toxic relationships to face a bright and successful future only to be diagnosed with Huntington’s disease is a cruel joke fate played.
This is Gail’s story delivered to you in a four-part heartwrenching series of poems, allowing you to see the world through her eyes.
Huntington’s disease is a cruel and hopeless disease without a cure. It affects not only the body and nervous system, degrading movement and learning, but as an added surprise, it’s genetic.
Watching her mother suffer with the horrible disease, Gail and her siblings suffered the abuse of her narcissistic, sadistically cruel father, a stepmother who may have been worse, and a toxic ex-boyfriend.
As horrific as this sounds, her story ends in hope, survival and inner peace.
Join Gail as she illuminates the darkness, finding her inner peace and rising above it all to eventually have a spiritual rebirth!
Please Be Advised (TW/CW), this book contains both sensitive and traumatic content.
Ice Cream Machine
Down a long, sterile hallway—
The white walls were mildly suffocating
But the ice cream machine of yesterday
Sat in the guest visiting rooms, a blessing.
Even though we couldn’t speak to her,
Even though she ate through a straw,
We shared with her a treat of sugar.
With my grandmother, we shared what we saw.
We showed her new photos of the family,
New additions to the band.
We told her of all the news, properly
From the life she no longer had in hand.
Ten years later, I had to move in my mother.
She was the same grace, in sickness
As her mother before her.
Now we shared the ice cream, and I shared my glimpses
Surely, in ten years, I will trade again.
It will be my turn to lose this life.
Will my husband share the ice cream? A tradition retained
As fate twists the knife?
With Huntington’s Disease, we are masters of death,
And so too are we the masters of life.
Though the agony of it can steal our breath,
We live each day with abandon, as befits this nonlife.