Lindsey Altom
Bio
For me, writing runs in the blood. I've written songs, poems and short stories ever since I was a little girl. I mostly like to write about my life experiences mixed with a little fiction or just things that come off the top of my head!
Stories (69/0)
As I Cry Out...
All I ever wanted was to please you, impress you. I was never enough. My child, you've always been enough for me. My sisters were always the daughters you wanted, not me. I am your bastard child. I was conceived in the dark of night with a man you now love to hate.
By Lindsey Altom11 days ago in Poets
Bipolar?
Well, here we are...I'll be thirty-seven in about a month, and as I sit here thinking of my life and my recent diagnosis I realize my whole life has been leading up to this point. A handful of pills, perhaps more to come, a lifetime of therapy in my future which I had succumbed to already, tracking my moods, learning my triggers, and watching my sleeping and eating patterns to be sure that I take care of myself properly. Some days I have to force myself to get out of bed because I simply want to melt into the bed and disappear. However, when you're a mother you don't get that option. I also know that I must force myself to get up, keep moving, make plans, and set goals or I will fall into that inevitable dark hole again. The dark hole I have clawed my way out of countless times, the hole that seems so comforting in ways but I also have the sense to know that it would end me. I know that as easy as it sounds to give in and give up; that darkness is not my friend and it will tear me apart limb by limb and piece by piece if I allow it to. My mental health is something I have struggled with since adolescence. You could blame it on childhood trauma, family history, or just a bad draw of the cards but it is something I live with every day. I've always felt that my brain was out to get me; perhaps, even trying to kill me. It has always felt like my brain is in a hurricane and the rest of my body is this crazy weatherman thinking she can somehow tame the storm like Jesus and that's what I've been trying to do my entire life, tame the storm. I beg, I cry, I pled, I pray, I hit my knees in desperation and sometimes yes, there is a relief but it is usually temporary. The storm always comes back. There are glimpses in my life where I am happy. There are things and people in my life that make me happy. There are things I'm passionate about such as writing for example and spreading awareness. Sometimes I get excited almost giddy about life and I make all these plans that I think will improve my life or make me happy. I try to cling to these plans when the darkness comes back. I cling to them as if they are my only lifeline. My only rope as I hang off the cliff of life. One day, I'll buy an RV and a Jeep, live in the mountains, or maybe travel all over the U.S.. I think a hot tub will make me happier so I might buy that, I think getting back with my ex will make me happy so I pursue him even though that is not a good idea, I think I need something and why should I deny myself of this happiness so I buy it or pursue it. I'll be fine for a little while, months even and then I get restless. I can't explain it other than to say that it's like an itch deep inside and suddenly I'm not fully happy and content with life and I need something to change. I need a change of scenery, an adventure, something...anything. The thing is though that nothing I do ever lasts to satisfy that itch. So yes, my moods are up and down and to be honest, I never know what I'm going to feel when I wake up. It's a surprise every day even for me. Why does having mental illness have such a stigma? I can't help this; can't control it. I didn't ask for it. I certainly don't want this storm in my mind but I'm learning more and more about myself every year. This year, just a couple of days ago, a psychiatrist told me that she thought I may have bipolar disorder type II. She told me to research it and form my own opinion and the more testimonials I look up the more the piece seems to fit into this complicated puzzle that is my brain. So, there it is. I have bipolar type II. Maybe now I can get some answers to how my brain truly functions and why it does what it does. That's truly all I've ever wanted... answers.
By Lindsey Altom18 days ago in Psyche
Greeter Falls in Altamont, TN
So, thanks to my wonderful father I have been on many hiking adventures but this one was one of my favorites, and why you may ask? Well, I got to mark something off my bucket list here at Greeter Falls in Altamont, TN that I had been dying to do since I was a little girl and watched the Family Featured Film Behind the Waterfall. That's right, I swam behind a waterfall and it was one of the most magical, adrenaline-fueled, exhilarating experiences I had in my life up to that point. You see, it was May when we went on this trip and although it was warm enough to wear shorts and short-sleeved shirts the water was still pretty chilly from the Winter. I didn't care though because I had one thing on my mind as soon as I found out that I could swim behind this waterfall I knew my dream was coming true.
By Lindsey Altomabout a month ago in Wander
Two Pink Lines. Top Story - April 2024.
I had never really felt like a child. I'd always had to raise myself. My mother was just a teenager when she'd had me and consequently, we had spent my whole childhood arguing and fighting like a couple of sisters as opposed to mother and daughter. My father was older than my mother but still had some maturing to do himself. He focused his entire life on me, his little girl but never realized the pressure that put on me. I always felt I had to raise him even as he was trying to raise me. We raised each other. Then, I met him. He cares, he shows me a love like I've never known. For once, it's about me and I don't have to focus on other people's needs and what someone needs from me. Someone always wants something from you. That is what my parents have taught me. Love is selfish but it isn't with him. He is perfect, beautiful, funny, and can take me to places I've only dreamed about. Places outside my mind and my own pathetic life and I know that I will always love him. When we first met, I wanted him to have my children, but now? Right now, with us both still in high school? This is all happening so soon. I slipped into the restroom at work. It had been 6 weeks since my last menstrual and this was not normal. I couldn't wait any longer. I put the top on the test and waited. These 60 seconds felt like forever. What would we do? We were both seniors so we didn't have long to go before school was over but this was not the plan. The plan was for him to join the Army and me the National Guard and for me to get my associate's degree and then we marry, then have kids.
By Lindsey Altom2 months ago in Fiction
~Mother~
Mama, I see you. It took a long time but I see you. I can understand now. I got hurt because they hurt you. It doesn't make what was done right but that is the hard truth of generational trauma. We all are little children who need to feel loved, wanted, needed, accepted, and protected. When that doesn't happen for one reason or the other, that is when trauma comes into play. Our human minds can't accept the fact that someone who was supposed to love us, someone who was supposed to protect us has rejected us. We will forever question, why? What did we do to deserve this? It must be our fault somehow we assume. Most of the time, it is not about us but the person rejecting us and their past. The pain they felt; and rejection get projected onto someone else. The pain isn't meant to be shared but it has to come out some way and too often it comes out in the wrong way. This needs to end. We are all human; at the end of the day, we can only do our best. However, a genuine effort needs to be made to not pass this poison down the line to our children and the next generation. I'm personally working on my change and my truth. There are better outlets, more healthy outlets, than passing our anger, hatred, bitterness, and pain onto a loved one.
By Lindsey Altom3 months ago in Families
10 Million Little Things...
When a person has been through so much trauma there comes a point where the mind overthinks every little detail and every little interaction that hasn't become a commonplace occurrence. That too sometimes gets questioned in his or her mind. This is where I found myself this morning when I stepped out of my car to pump gas at my local gas station and a gentleman came strolling up to me but respectfully keeping his distance and said, "Mam, I hope you don't take this the wrong way but you are beautiful." I said thank you and continued pumping my gas as did he. He didn't say anything else to me while we were both going about the business of putting gas into our vehicles but my mind was going a thousand miles a minute from just that simple interaction. "He didn't go behind my car and put a tracker on it when I wasn't looking, did he? No, of course not, I saw him come out of the gas station.", "Am I really that beautiful? No, trust me, you don't want me. I mean if you could just hear me rattling off in my head right now you'd understand why.", "Damaged beyond repair that's what I am. It's best I'm left alone.", I had turned to put my wallet back into my car and my thoughts turned to, "Watch your back. Listen. He may try to attack you." Eventually, we both finished pumping our gas and then he bid me a good day and I did him as well and he left. A simple interaction and yet it brought tears to my eyes. As you've probably figured out by now I don't take compliments from the opposite sex very well anymore. I'm not sure how to perceive them. Are they disguises for something more sinister lying in wait just down the line? Is it a mask used to lure me in? To me, all a compliment from a man spells out is danger. You see, we've been down this path several times before and it always ends badly. I feel like a stray animal that's never been in a loving home before and doesn't understand how to accept love. My parents showed me love in the best way they knew how but to be honest, it was an obscured view as well, and now although I have a good understanding of what love should look like I don't trust that it exists at least not long term. And certainly not for me. When I receive a compliment I know what I should do is receive the compliment, perhaps say something nice back but in my mind, all I can do is look for danger and all I want to do is run. You see what you don't see is the 10 million little thoughts running through my mind, what you don't see is the 10 million ways I've done thought of how you've murdered me and buried my body, what you don't see or realize is the 10 million little things that have led to my PTSD and my trauma ridden mind, what you don't realize is the 10 million battles I've already had to overcome and the last thing I want to do is overcome another one, you don't know the 10 million mountains I've climbed just to get here, you don't see my 10 million little scars do you? You wouldn't I try hard to hide them. I've tried hard to overcome them, to shine despite them but there is one thing that terrifies me still. Please don't be nice to me.
By Lindsey Altom3 months ago in Confessions
Subscribe to my stories
Show your support and receive all my stories in your feed.
Send me a tip
Show your support with a small one-off tip.