This is not about the pain in my back, my thoracic to be exact. This is not about the feeling of sickness that encompasses my body inside and out. This is not about the full body feeling of heaviness crushing my motivation daily. This is not about the lightning bolts flashing through my knees when I walk. This is not about the pain and agony … Continue reading This is Life
They were always there; on the table, in her purse, and forever in her hand. The hand that was meant to hold mine, ever-consumed by that which will kill her. They were always there, taking up space – silently drawing her in. Menthol filling the air. Tainting the walls of her delicately conceived dream. Though they were accepted as a normal part of our lives, I … Continue reading The Fall: The Light in Her Eyes
January 27, 2018 – I sit here fully aware that I am swimming in pain and fear. Layers of pain igniting fear within the darkest recesses of my mind. For months I’ve been managing the effects of a neck and shoulder injury (re-injury). Here’s the truth – I have always felt guilty for sharing my pain and suffering with others. I loathe the feeling of … Continue reading Diary of Pain Pt. 2
November 13, 2017 – A writing session I’m clearly avoiding and I’m sitting here listening to Christmas music – Dean Martin to be specific. I’m not sure what I’m trying to accomplish by choosing Christmas music, but I’ve been through every other playlist on my Pandora app…. Something must inspire me. At the very least a smile and a giggle (check and check). I’m trying … Continue reading Diary of Pain Pt. 1
My story is coming out in pieces; something my over-analytical inner-critic is furious about. I’ve spent the last few weeks avoiding writing most days, while setting aside my progress on the days I do write. I sit down with the sole purpose of writing, no real plan, only the faith that something will flow out of me. I’ve found this to be the most therapeutic … Continue reading Pieces of Me: A Peak Behind the Curtain
Okay, I’m officially middle aged. I always imagined it would come at 50, which is just silly, considering I’m unlikely to live to 100. My reasoning? Today marks three months of sleeping an average of four hours a night. It’s not as if I’m unappreciative of the time, but I am no need for more awake time. What I need is more sleep, if not for any other reason than to allow my body to heal properly. There is a reason for everything, and sleep serves many a purpose. The most important, the allowance for mind and body to heal and reset. I learned a few years ago how important sleep is, especially the right amount at the right time.
I cannot explain how weird it is to feel the way I feel right now. I’m desperate to share. I believe in my heart of hearts that sharing will do some good. For myself and others. I can’t be alone. Others must understand. But here I sit, four months into blogging, and I cannot commit to full-disclosure. The walls, the massive tower of criticism that … Continue reading Circle the Wagons