childhood trauma
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I arrived home from a visit to my home town and found a little package from an organization called Find Your Anchor. It was the most beautiful little package. I am in love with it. This little blue box is filled with reminders of what there is to live for, and why I am a
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I once, according to my dad’s telling of the tale, came downstairs from my room, obtained a jar of jam from the refrigerator, took a spoon from the silverware drawer, and started to eat jam directly from the jar. When Dad questioned me, and asked what I was doing, I became defensive. Whatever was happening
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The other night, I was watching the latest episode of How to Get Away with Murder. And I won’t let loose any spoilers, because only asshats let loose spoilers from the best and most intense cliff-hanging shows. (I’m looking at you, people on the train loudly discussing plots and outcomes that we financially challenged people
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My daughter and I were having a conversation the other day about my marketable skills. I will spare you the details and the discouraging situation that I find myself in regarding balancing health and finances. If you have not already become familiar with that situation, hit up some earlier posts to get up to speed.
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There is this common statement among those who choose a Christian religious base for their belief system. I hear it often. I hate it more every time it is said. “God won’t give you more than you can handle.” I call bullshit. I am dealing with more than I can handle. I’ve been dealing
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This morning I asked the dog, “Wouldn’t my mother be proud of me, swallowing up to 11 pills at once?” Shockingly, he responded by turning his head to one side and looking at me with cuteness and confusion, wondering if I were asking him something he wanted to hear … he hasn’t mastered English language
Learning To Be Whole 