Don’t look down, they say. Don’t look back. Keep your eyes straight ahead toward where you’re going, rather than focusing on everything you’re putting behind you. I think the intention … Continue reading Look down. Look back.
Don’t look down, they say. Don’t look back. Keep your eyes straight ahead toward where you’re going, rather than focusing on everything you’re putting behind you. I think the intention … Continue reading Look down. Look back.
That feeling when your daughter comes across your old photo album full of family pictures, and wants to look through it to see you as a baby, and you start … Continue reading Just somebody.
I had a dentist appointment this morning. Routine, but overdue, I’d had to reschedule it several times over the last three months. My hygienist was at the reception desk when … Continue reading Learning to function. (TW: assault, rape, aftermath)
Some days are just fucking hard. All days have their challenges, some small, some massive, and a variety in between. And I do believe that no challenge is insurmountable, even … Continue reading Hippo birdie days.
“I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there’s no relief in waking.” -Finnick Odair, Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. My father tried to kill himself when I … Continue reading No such thing as closure. (TW: parent’s attempted suicide)
Have you ever asked a question – one that you thought was innocuous, just something you were curious about or didn’t understand – and been completely shut down for it? … Continue reading The threat of authenticity.
Recently I spoke with a fellow survivor of narcissistic abuse (yes, survivor – I hate the word victim). She’s just starting out on her journey of recovery and reclaiming herself, … Continue reading It’s a marathon, not a sprint.
My father died 15 years ago. I was 18. I am in contact with exceedingly few people these days who knew him. Even then, that contact is sparse (no judgment, … Continue reading Happy and haunted.
Some days I feel light as a feather. Light with knowledge that there’s nothing ahead of me but to live my own life here. Some days I feel so heavy. … Continue reading Biographical parasite.
I’m a living ghost story. Or at least that’s how it feels sometimes. I’m not entirely sure how to pinpoint exactly when it happened. I used to think I knew. … Continue reading Ghost story.