coping skills
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The half growl/half crow of Eddie Vedder has long been a part of my own, personal war cry. It both fed and poured out my teenage angst—my frustration with the things that were senseless, wrong, and unjust in the world, and my desire to be free from all of the pain and confusion and devastation
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The journey to this moment has been long and hard and chaotic and sometimes frightening. So, now that I am here, I am paralyzed. This is certainly not the first time that I have fought my way through all sorts of trauma to find myself safe on the other side and stuck. Just stuck. It
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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 are days that hope cannot come from within. The spirit of the wounded gives up sometimes, whether it is desired or no. I’m trying to find a way to inspire that spirit and enter the fray once more. But I haven’t found it today. I think it might need to come from elsewhere. I
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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
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As the New Year rolls in, I am in my party dress, sipping a cocktail, and typing at my desk. I suppose I knew at the start of the evening that this would be its conclusion, but I always hope for an outcome that isn’t me alone with my keyboard and my liquor. That hope
Learning To Be Whole 