Learning To Be Whole

domestic violence

  • Can’t Find a Better Man

    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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  • Toxic 2.0

    I don’t know how to do relationships. Don’t get me wrong.  I know how to advise about relationships.  I’d make a great family therapist or marriage counselor.  I marry people—to one another, of course—in ceremonies, as the ordained minister with credentials recognized by the state.  Ask me about your relationship and I will give you

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  • And the Storm Rages On

    It isn’t easy for me to be vulnerable. I remember a friend from cohort saying to me once that I was very open by not very vulnerable, and I was upset by that statement, because I didn’t think it fair to separate the two out in that manner.  Being honest was, in my mind at

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  • Breakthrough

    Sometimes I write a whole lot of stuff and then I just file it away, never to be seen again. Unless I die and someone figures out my laptop password, divulging all of the secrets within the “Current Writing Projects” folder, there are thousands upon thousands of words that will never be read by anyone. 

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  • Like You Mean It

    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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  • Wide Awake

    I woke to a crash at 5:00 this morning.  My daughter’s cat has finally managed to do what I have been anticipating for some weeks now—she broke some shit. I investigated the crash and found that the beautiful orchid that was thoughtfully gifted to me after my recent hip surgery was currently lying on the

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  • In the Mood

    I can’t seem to stop listening to Rachmaninoff.  I’m just in that mood.  Or so I thought when I first turned my Spotify account in his direction a day or two ago.  But the more I listen, the more I wonder:  What mood is that exactly?  Because one thing I am noticing about his music

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  • Shifting. Choosing. Being Safe.

    Today my therapist asked me questions. Deliberate questions. The kind of questions that make you know that she is thinking about things—piecing things together and circling back toward topics that we may have touched on but that I haven’t connected in significant ways yet. I suppose this shift from me babbling about whatever comes to

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