two months ago, rising up from the floor seemed impossible. a dog’s paws, literally on her arm, holding. consoling. there was the shaking. the uncontrollable sobbing. and then the shriveling. the weakness. the darkness. the hunger. but now lying in bed, naked, a glimmer of light peeks through the blinds, accentuating the curves of her […]Read more "normalcy"
it was quite a day of ups and downs. and not just in yoga. heard from someone I’ve been missing so, so much and it both helped and hurt … but it was needed. much needed. dare I say it was even good. difficult, yes. but good. there was therapy right after (thank goodness) and […]Read more "good"
watch me as I go … to yoga. today was my first yoga class. this is me, after the class: dude. I’m smiling. and I’m not going to tell you if I faked it or not. 😉 but hey. I didn’t fall over. I twisted up just like a pretzel, exactly like I was supposed […]Read more "breathe"
everyone has issues. we aren’t special, other than in all of the ways we were so fucking special.Read more "yes we were"
when I move my foot over even a few inches, it’s just cold. I wake and immediately feel alone. yesterday, I woke crying. I don’t know how long I’d been crying. that was weird. I told someone the other day that I remember this part … the not being able to leave my tiny corner. […]Read more "no comfort"
I had walked around the streets of Paris for what felt like at least 30 miles before I gave in and bought a ticket for a red double-decker “hop on-hop off” bus. it was a bold move for someone who admittedly would rather slit her wrists and bleed out slowly than to take in a […]Read more "that time I hated Paris"
it’s her own fault. she put him there, up on that pedestal. the same pedestal he uses to climb up so he can look down on her. to yell at her. to make her feel like a child. she feels defenseless and worthless. and it’s her own fault, building him up that way. giving him that position. backing […]Read more "soar"
I always thought it was neat that both of my sets of grandparents lived at the end of a dead-end road. I’m not sure it means anything really. it’s just a fun fact about my family. we come from dead-end roads. not the same dead-end road, because that would just be weird. the roads are […]Read more "dead ends"