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I am part of a community. A community of writers, and they all remind me of me. I can be myself. It’s still scary, of course. But I’ve opened up to this group of strangers more than I’ve opened up to anyone in my life, husband and counselor included.
I don’t think this is a bad thing. I actually think it’s quite healthy. I am putting in the work, grueling icky work, in hopes to find love and grace for my childhood self. I decide who deserves this knowledge and when and how I will share it. It has nothing to do with who I love and appreciate and how much I love and appreciate them. I am respecting the boundaries of my authentic self and opening up space for my intuition to guide me to the people and places where I will share my special story.
I’ve had some pep in my step the last few days. I’ve cleaned, organized…which are things I so do not do. But the husband and I talked about children the other night, a talk that left me crying, but in…
My anxiety. Where is it going? And why did it decide to leave so suddenly? As I looked at my very own website that is still very much under construction and read my domain name I thoughtfully chose, I had…
I was given the opportunity to contribute stories to be published in a book about PTSD, suicide prevention and overcoming trauma. Of course I didn’t hesitate to say, “Yes!” Until I started piecing together my personal stories. I’ve been journaling…
I did an online energy healing workshop yesterday hosted by Briana Borton, founder of The Dragontree (http://thedragontree.com/about/). Yes, yes, to some “energy healing” sounds hokey, and it sounded that way to me years ago. But I do believe we all…
I’m dangerously close to the deadline of submitting my stories for the PTSD/Suicide Prevention book. I’ve always been a procrastinator, and some of my best work has come when I was down to the wire. I decided I’d pick up…
“You are just like mom!” my or-so-I-thought-confidante sister yells at me. Says the girl screaming at me because I said she was stressing me out by something she was saying. I don’t even remember what it was about. This same…
I decided to continue on with my reading of Beverly Engel’s Healing Your Emotional Self”. It’s painful to read. It brings back many bad memories. During and after my reading it, I feel uncomfortable, highly anxious, and often experience moments…
It’s true, I am healing from consequences I experienced due to my choices as an adult. I’m not blaming everything on my childhood. A lot of my behavior was a result of the environment I grew up in, and I…
Wow. How much personal work I have done! I am reading my hand-written journaling from 2011, and I did much writing during that year. And understandable so. I had moved in with my now fiance and the plan was for…
Struggle: this is a word I am familiar with. Sometimes too familiar, sometimes way too familiar. Hourly I find myself asking, “Will my struggle always be real?” Talking with my counselor earlier this week, she said something very Oprah-esque. “You…
I’ve done a bit more reading of Surviving a Borderline Parent by Kimberlee Roth and Freda B. Friedman , PH.D., LCSW. My last two readings were very interesting. The first of the two seemed like smooth sailing when I began.…
“May God have mercy on your soul,” my mother said. The bee sting is over. I’ve come to peace with her words. Like a Borderline, she projects. So, maybe she is actually saying may God have mercy on her soul.…
I have these fears about my mother, irrational maybe, but based on her past behavior nothing would surprise me anymore. Actually, I think she could still surprise me with what that woman is capable of doing and saying. What if…
My reading of Surviving a Borderline Parent by Kimberlee Roth and Freda B. Friedman, PH.D., LCSW has continued. Here are excerpts I connected with. Ongoing or frequent feelings of being hollow, empty, or fake. “Lacking a strong core, a sense…
I am reading The Memory Palace by Mira Bartok. Her memories take shape as a.house or maybe a castle. Nevertheless, they take shape. I feel close to Bartok. While she has a schizophrenic mother, I have an emotionally ill mother.…
A Saboteur. It sounds like a handsome, romantic, traveling Frenchman. Oh, how I wish it were. After two decades of shitting on anything good that came into my life, it wasn’t until the past few years that I was able…
Between Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert and an article I read in The Mission Newsletter, I am writing for the sake of writing. Because that’s how books are written. The author writes. Writes a lot. And I have not been…
I’ve been trying to find a way to say without saying that I have a problem taking prescription drugs as prescribed. I overtake the uppers to try and feel the least bit of relief from my depression and then overtake…
The following blog post was written in October 2018. I used to be an infamous canceler of counseling appointments. Infamous because of timing and repetition: always last-minute and approximately 3 out of 4 appointments. My previous counselor once told me,…
During a search for support groups for daughters of borderline or emotionally absent mothers, I came across Motherless Daughters Ministry. As I read through their website, I thought, “This is exactly what I’m looking for. I need this.” Then I…
