Sara Cooney (Past Penname: Elabeth Cooney)

Sara found the beauty of the written word during her formative teen years, and she has not put her pen down since. While going through a rough period dealing with a long-term mental health crisis she relied on her words to work through what she was going through. Those words became healing. Now, she relies on writing, self-care, medication, and therapy to keep her going. Now in college to study creative writing, she hopes her poetry can help others going through the same thing, as well as those who have loved ones who are learning to cope with their own challenges. 

BEAUTIFUL DISASTERS

Embark on an intimate journey into this very personal collection of soul-baring poetry. From my tumultuous teens through my turbulent twenties, I confronted addiction and mental health challenges. In the depths of my despair, poetry offered me solace and hope. With each verse, I strive to embolden those wrestling with similar demons, inspiring them to conquer and overcome. For others, I hope to illuminate the paths of loved ones walking similar battles. It is with both humility and honor that I share these words, allowing readers into the raw landscape of my soul.

During the experience of more trauma, narcissistic abuse and my continued struggle with co-dependency while striving to get clean from the wrath of addiction, while fighting a continuous urge to turn around to drops of alcohol, I wrote Traumatized Again in a little over a year. I suffered through grief, trauma, and the internal strife between autism and bipolar disorder. Now, while writing more and learning to be an independent adult, I am learning myself more through therapy, loved ones who have been there, and communicating what really happened to me. I hope that my poetry written through such a horrific time during my early to mid twenties will inspire those suffering through narcissistic abuse, grief, loss, depression, anxiety, or any struggle and encourage them to get the help they need whatever that may be.

Words rush through my veins
The trees are cold and haunted
I am crying inside my soul
But at the same time, I feel at home.