Seven years. I’ve been seeing my therapist for seven years. Actually it’s officially seven years this month. (Cheers, doc!) (I actually never call her that, but in the interest of … Continue reading For better or worse.
Tag: narcissistic abuse
Covering the bases.
I’ve been having a difficult day, emotionally. Just short-tempered. Grouchy. Wanting to be left alone for the most part (not an option when it’s a day with my kid since … Continue reading Covering the bases.
Space invaders. (TW: sexual abuse)
Mad. So much mad. Every version of me, from neglected child me to abused teen me to gaslit young adult me to present-day wide awake me, are all white-hot mad. … Continue reading Space invaders. (TW: sexual abuse)
Mom Olympics.
Last weekend I went through about a dozen huge tote bins full of every single stitch of clothing my daughter has ever worn. I never got rid of a thing, … Continue reading Mom Olympics.
Quasimodo.
Today was one of those days where I felt short-tempered and irritable and emotionally wrung out. I was bitchy at others when I knew that the real source of my … Continue reading Quasimodo.
Dandelions.
I love dandelions. My husband does not. He’s a lawn mowing enthusiast and, to him, dandelions are nothing more than pesky weeds that warrant expedient removal. He tells me they’re … Continue reading Dandelions.
Permanent ink.
I had intended this evening to write a relatively simple post about my experience today with getting my very first tattoo. However, more important material presented itself. We’ll see if … Continue reading Permanent ink.
Highways go both ways.
One of my favorite things about therapy — other than being able more and more to talk about therapy unselfconsciously, without fear of stigma — is that I can frequently … Continue reading Highways go both ways.
Point of view.
This week’s Parsha (the section of the Torah that we are reading from) is an interesting one. We are at the point in the story where twelve spies are sent … Continue reading Point of view.
White whales.
I’ve written before about how reading was my first and preferred escape from the prolonged trauma of my life for over twenty years, particularly through my teenager-hood. I was given … Continue reading White whales.
Journeys in the Dark 