control
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I’m not certain if control issues were inherited or ingrained, but my mother was the pinnacle of having things in order, and bits of her need to control all the things all the time were handed down to me, and I handed bits down to my daughter. It isn’t always a bad thing to want
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I was thinking a lot the past few days about what it is to be brave. I had a friend tell me that I am brave, and the next morning I was engaged in a guided meditation to help me be less afraid. I am always afraid, in a sense. PTSD keeps your system in
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I started bawling while I typed out a text to my daughter. She turns nineteen today. I can’t even wrap my head around that. That tiny seven pound bundle of smiles and tears that was placed in my arms all those years ago changed everything about life and love. And I know that lots of
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I’m learning to write. I’m pretty sure that I spent years of grade school learning to write. Apparently, those years didn’t accomplish the goal, or my teachers didn’t teach me well. After an injury to my wrist on a Chicago city bus (as an aside, avoid public transit on holidays when copious amounts of alcohol
Learning To Be Whole 