fibromyalgia
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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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In therapy on Monday, I said to my therapist, “I’m done! I’m done.” And that was immediately followed by the expression, “I don’t even know what that means, because I am not going to kill myself, so I don’t know what I am done with, per se, or what I am quitting, exactly.” I’m relatively
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I am scheduled for a mammogram later today. I’ve spent about the last 2 hours debating with myself about whether I do or do not wish to reschedule that appointment. I can make it. But I don’t want to worry about it. But I feel well enough. No, I don’t feel well. But I could
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Yesterday I did a thing that hasn’t been done in years: I forgot to put my medication in my bag when I left the house. Those who are close to me know that I take a ton of pills and I am taking them what seems like all the time. I have five alarms set
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I can’t write this week. I’ve tried several times. Two or three paragraphs in, it falls apart and the message I meant to speak becomes a ball of words with no real significance. I’m too tangled up inside, I think, to be able to present something linear and coherent on the outside. I’m a mess.
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I have this problem lately. I mean, I always have one problem or another it seems, but this problem has become foremost in my mind. I don’t know who I am or who to be. That is exactly how I expressed it to my therapist yesterday. I don’t know who I am or who to
Learning To Be Whole 