I did something drastic for the sake of my mental health this week. I stayed home for Thanksgiving while the rest of my family went to my in-laws’ like we’ve … Continue reading Worth remembering.
Tag: trauma recovery
Grenade.
I’ve been thinking a lot in the last week or two about how it could be possible that I came from such horrible people and didn’t turn out the same … Continue reading Grenade.
Just devastated. That’s all.
Ever have some really bad shit happen and you deal with it as best you can and you’re like, well, that’s horrible, but I need to try to put it … Continue reading Just devastated. That’s all.
It’s not my fault.
Recently, my therapist posed an easy question that I still struggle to answer, and it’s been almost two weeks since she asked it. She had the audacity to ask me…you … Continue reading It’s not my fault.
37.
I’m 37 today. Somehow it feels like now I’m undeniably a grownup. That sounds ridiculous, firstly because I have obviously been a grownup for many many moons now, and secondly … Continue reading 37.
I am an Existential Beach.
Every so often, a weather front will blow in and there will be a whiff of ocean in the air. A salty breeze, subtle, probably unnoticeable to most people, but … Continue reading I am an Existential Beach.
Differently bad.
My mother’s birthday was this past Wednesday. I had built up a fair amount of agitation about it ahead of time, anticipating that it would be a challenging day for … Continue reading Differently bad.
This whole “let them” thing.
I want to start off this post by saying that Mel Robbins seems like a lovely person who’s done great work for her own life and made a huge difference … Continue reading This whole “let them” thing.
Seven lies (and two truths) my father told me.
In a sense, the term “lies” seems a bit strong, as for the most part, what this list entails is pretty harmless. But sugarcoating any of it by calling them … Continue reading Seven lies (and two truths) my father told me.
An ode to the Fiona dress.
My daughter has grown out of all of her princess dresses. She’d grown out of them months ago, really, but I hadn’t gotten around to pulling them from her closet … Continue reading An ode to the Fiona dress.
Journeys in the Dark 