I love metaphors. In these online pages, I have been a superhero(Ms. Grito, Mujer Hollering’s kryptonite-detesting alter ego), a trapeze artist, a boxer, an Acapulco cliff diver, a volcano diver(yeah I know they don’t exist…yet), a little bird, a little mouse, a ghetto girl, and a green mamba. Must be all those years of writing poetry, of aspiring to say so much in so few words.

Izzy and I were up in the wee hours Friday, discussing facing mental illness. I came up with a new analogy that even Spiritual Mentor likes.
For me, mental illness is like living near a waterfall. The river current is fast. The roar of the water is loud. I can always hear the water. If I get into the water, the fall to the rocks is inevitable so long as I don’t have the strength or resources to cross the river safely. This is why I want to learn different ways to get across the river.
I don’t have control of the waterfall. It just is. I know its power. But I keep stepping into the canoe, haplessly getting thrown over the edge and dashed on the rocks.

Not any more I’m not.