How many days are there when you just aren’t making it? I survived but barely. I’m not talking depression exactly (although I need to pick up my prescription and I’m unfortunately out of refills) but I’m wondering when I can hide for some hours or a solid day. Yesterday, I couldn’t cook again. I do not mean that I have cooked so many nights that … Continue reading How Many?
This is a two year old repost of a Facebook post on my timeline. I am remembering that I am not in crisis. My children are safe. I pray for those whose children did not make it to adulthood. I have this creepy unsettled feeling. It has been following me around. It even gets in the car with me when I’m enjoying a ride. I’ve … Continue reading On facebook about Malik – post from summer 2017
I cried and cried as she sat at my feet. I tried to wipe the tears casually with my shoulder. My hands were unavailable. It was a manicure/pedicure. On her tiny rolling stool she was almost kneeling at my feet and I felt way too out of my element. It felt downright lenten. I am unworthy. She massaged my surprisingly shaven legs. I had forgotten … Continue reading Sat at my feet