Haven for the living Princess and the Pea



A founder of hsphaven, Zoe hopes to create a space for HSP writers to come together and share their diverse passions and expertise through writing. This has been an important outlet for Zoe over the years; she fondly recalls writing stories as a child at recess and lunchtime and sharing them with her classmates. Some of Zoe’s areas of interest include mental health, healing and self-development. She has a background in psychology/social science. In her spare time Zoe enjoys being in Nature, op shopping, vegan food, music, and art and craft.


“And now you are just a stranger with all my secrets.” lauraklinke_art

She swept into my life while I was at my lowest. It was my first time being in a private hospital for my mental health and she was my nurse. I remember being blown away by the level of care shown towards me, which sat at stark contrast to the public hospital I was in a few years back. She told me she felt protective of me like she was my big sister. She was always looking out for me and said that during handover she would ask to hear about me first. Continue reading “Betty”

I am not alone

“The tide recedes, but leaves behind
Bright seashells on the sand.
The sun goes down but gentle warmth
Still lingers on the land.

The music stops and yet it lingers on
In sweet refrain.
For every joy that passes
Something beautiful remains.”

Martha Vashti Pearson

An excruciating sense of loneliness has followed me all my life. I never had a solid group of friends as I moved schools seven times. I was always the new girl, the outsider, and wherever I went, I was told how much I was hated. I was bullied at nearly every school and this took the same form each time: exclusion. No hands were laid. Sometimes no words were even spoken, I was simply glared at from across the room. We called it “the evil eye”, a glare reserved for the most despicable. Sometimes I wonder whether that is why people’s faces are a blur to me, my mind’s attempt to protect me from seeing such hatred again. Continue reading “I am not alone”

Life inside the BPD mind

You list all that you have accomplished: clarifying my diagnosis, getting me on the NDIS, getting me into Spectrum.

“Is there anything we’ve missed?” you ask me. “Is there anything else you need?”

“I need you,” would be the honest answer, but I do not let it escape my lips.

As you summarise your progress, it sounds as though you’re wrapping up our time together. You don’t see a need for you anymore. Pain builds inside me like a tsunami, yet no tears reach the shore.

“Are you trying to get rid of me from this service?” is all that comes out.

You tell me there are no plans to finish up with me in the immediate future. It is not the answer my mind is looking for. I need you in my life not just in the immediate future, but forever. Tell me you will stay with me forever. Continue reading “Life inside the BPD mind”


The clothes drier is a drill into my scull.

It’s hum incessant, pausing only briefly before continuing to deepen its reach.

Clothes spin round and round,

Thoughts spin round and round,

Why am I going round and round, in and out of hospitals, getting no where?

Layers of self

We are like flower buds with many layers/dimensions. The Energetics Institute breaks these layers down on their website.

There is the self we present to the world. This is called the “Social Mask”, and is what we pretend to be so that we will be accepted. Behind this is the “Lower” or “Shadow” self, the “Primal Wound”, our dark side which we learn to hide. But there is a side even deeper than the Lower Self. This is our “Higher” self, our core, our soul self, our Life Force. This is the pearl which only the deepest sea diver will get. We need to go through our shadow self to find it. Continue reading “Layers of self”

Living in isolation

The coronavirus is giving many people a taste of how I’ve been living for YEARS now… the isolation, the lack of touch, the lack of structure, the aimlessness and lack of purpose. Little has changed for me, and yet this existence suddenly feels more unbearable than ever. I know I can still see my friends one-on-one but it all feels pointless because I’m lonely even when I have company. Something separates me from people. My therapist calls it a “space suit”. When we have experienced trauma, we pull back from the world, and only relate to it via the space suit. But it starts to get very lonely in here and actually it’s like being starved to death if we keep the space suit on for too long. We can’t feel the things that make interacting worthwhile/meaningful, we can’t experience intimacy, and we walk away frustrated that people don’t meet our real self. Instead all they know is the space suit, and some even fall in love with the space suit believing they have found true connection.

Eyes oceans deep

It was the first time

I could look into another’s eyes

without feeling as though

I am blinded by the sun.

But just as our eyes

were about to meet,

you said you had to go,

that somebody else

was waiting for you.

You said you’d come back.

You never did.

I guess you drowned,

in eyes oceans deep.


You are the warm bath which melts my frozen heart.

You are the womb which cocoons me from the world.

You are the river letting my tears flow again.

You are the spring from which all life comes.

You are the waves of grief which hit.

You are Mariana’s Trench, a dark and unreachable place.

You are the freezing arctic sea.

You are the blade of ice where my heart used to be.

A poem about DSPS (Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome)

My love affair

With the night

Has turned into

A crippling blight


For while sweet stillness

Brings me to life.

When the sun rises

I am in strife


I cannot get up

When society rises.

I cannot sleep

When everyone retires.


The middle of my night,

Is the start of your day,

And I am wide awake

When your alertness starts to fray.


I live this life,

So removed from the world,

A 9-5 job,

Can only be hurled.


For when I try

to fit the mould

I’m always late,

And met with scold.


I am one of many,

With an invisible disability,

So please have compassion,

There is more to what you see.

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