Straitjacket Writers

Inside the Troubled Minds of Authors

Forgotten Sandwich

It can almost be funny sometimes to look back at what triggers a depression episode. Almost, because it’s not actually funny, but you want to laugh.

Tonight’s episode brought to you by Cold, Uneaten Sandwich.

My wife can be incredibly indecisive sometimes. If kidnappers took me hostage and told her she had to decide on a color for their hideout within Continue reading

the d-word

the d-word


hey everyone, gather ‘round and let’s talk about



when i was 17, i became barely-breathing, nearly-drowning, hardly-functioning depressed. it got worse and worse and worse before it even got slightly better. it lasted two solid years and i still get spells of it…

Attempting to Make Good

I recently stated in my review of Chris Hardwick‘s book The Nerdist Way: How to Reach the Next Level (In Real Life) that, after listening to his book and doing some subsequent reading, I had made a lot of changes in my life that were worthy of their own blog post.

Some years ago, I was in a work-related conversation between myself and another individual. The other person asked me where I pictured myself in five years. I don’t really recall what I said, probably that I pictured myself living elsewhere but doing the same thing, just better. The embarrassing part is, it was sort of a bullshit answer and he and I both knew it. It wasn’t that I was completely drifting through life, Continue reading

Nightmare Chronicles: A Homeless Future

Last night my nightmares came back with a vengeance.  I fell asleep, completely exhausted, and was quickly whisked into the future.  Dreamtime knows no boundaries, no rules. Nightmares can do anything. They are all powerful and in my mind, in this particular state, they are real.

I was homeless. I smelled bad, my clothes were rough, torn, dirty and not my own. I had a hat but my hair was stringy and dirty underneath and it itched. I was hungry.  My belly twisted against the back of my spine and the only bright spot of this particular nightmare was that it occurred to me that I was finally thin.

Continue reading

Another one from Post Secret.

This is actually something I have been wondering lately. Where does the actual me end? What’s the line between my identity and my illness. If I were to be magically cured of my illness, what would I do? Would I have the strength to do the right things? I mean, the feelings, the anxiety… those are the illness. But how much of my reaction is learned behavior? And how much of it would I be able to ignore if my mind and feelings worked like everyone else?

Yeah. I’ve felt this way.

from Post Secret



-source: Imgur

November Admin Update

Hey everyone!

Admin here. I just wanted to update the site with a brief apology for a lack of 100% original content lately. Our regular contributors have been busy preparing for and participating in NaNoWriMo. I’m proud to say that while we’re collectively under par for today’s expected goal, it’s not by much.

We do have some original posts in the editing phase, so look for those soon.

I hope everyone else is having a great November/NaNoWriMo!

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