healing
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I have drafts of unwritten posts. I start one, lose interest, walk away. Then another, and another. And I can’t figure out why I am having such a block in emoting via the written word, other than the fact that so much has changed for me since I started this blog. So much has changed…
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I was auditing my posts here after writing about therapy rates increasing yesterday. I’ve been thinking a lot about the story I am telling, the energy I am sending out to the world. Considering how much I have healed. Like a doctor wondering if a patient can breathe on their own after the breathing tube…
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The victim mindset says: I am Tantalus beneath the fruit tree, hungry, and unable to reach it. I am Tantalus, thirsty, floundering in a pool of water that cannot be drunk. I drive 50 miles to my therapist’s office every other week. We are a year into forming a patient/clinician relationship and working through what…
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The brutality of single motherhood is a living river with no beginning and no end. I am doing it all, and doing none of it well. There are days I open my eyes and have to box breathe myself out of a panic attack. Will there be enough to pay the propane bill if they…
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I’m trying to pick up pieces I didn’t know had broken away. Pieces that fell around me every time my heart broke. Pieces that I didn’t even know existed every time life disappointed me. Running through my hands and pouring out of my eyes. Things I’m losing over and over again and can’t even remember…
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I cried in the shower this morning. Hot, desperate sobs under the steam. I’m ripping off Band-Aids and pulling out boxes stuffed with trauma. Some days I really have it together, but for months now I’ve just been…raw. Unhinged. Unbridled emotions run amok. All the careful compartmentalization is coming undone and suddenly I am forced…
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Look at her. She just worked out so her arm is shaking holding up the camera, blurring the top of the image as a result. Carpet that needs to be vacuumed. One of her familiars watching over her. She is radiant and smiling, strong and resilient. She is creative, bright, learning all the ways her…
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I keep finding the bottom of myself and looking up for an outstretched hand. All I seem to find is a mirror. These are the things I learned this week that I wish I had known 20 years ago: Hyper-independence Is a Trauma Response I thought I was building a beautiful life, achieving the American…