Month: December 2021

Do the broken parts always stay broken?

Does it exist? Is there hope, or potential, or even the slightest, most remote possibility that this part of me can ever be healed? Shit, healed is a stretch. I’d be elated with functional. This part of life shouldn’t hurt. The part where someone who is safe and loving…loves you. You shouldn’t be afraid. You …

Do the broken parts always stay broken? Read More »

A guilt free, stress free Saturday

Today is the last weekend before Christmas. When our house will fill up and the chaos begins, once again. As much as I….feel…about Christmas…(yay, go joy..?) I’m also a bit dreading it. The constant noise and chaos and, well, you know. Every weekend for the past few months has been filled with trying to accomplish …

A guilt free, stress free Saturday Read More »

You can have pain, and still have hope for a better tomorrow.

I am living a story where I believe in hope for others, but not for myself. I’ve never believed in myself, or that a better ending is even possible for me. This week, I’ve been challenged. I’ve been asked to write as of hope is possible for me, as if I believe in better for …

You can have pain, and still have hope for a better tomorrow. Read More »

When your arms can’t hold him, so your heart does instead.

My son, who turns 5 next month, has just about the biggest heart you’ll ever see. As he’s getting older, he’s starting to ask me questions that i just…don’t know how to answer. Today I’m sending out the box with all my birth sons Christmas presents. (Which, due to the mail delivering my stuff to …

When your arms can’t hold him, so your heart does instead. Read More »

Hope Is Real.

Welcome to the week of Hope. (Sponsored by my therapists great ideas.) For the next few days, things will be…different. It’s homework, but I’m not allowed to be sarcastic about it. Shit, I think this means I’ve said too much. Hope is my favorite word. It’s my favorite feeling. I’ve written about it before, I’ve …

Hope Is Real. Read More »

When words don’t define you…even though they might.

I hate committing to words. I always have. I don’t have depression, I’m just fucked up. Or, I don’t have trauma, everyone goes through this shit. “I wasn’t sexually assaulted. And I definitely wasn’t raped. Recently, or for years on end in past “relationships”. I’m not suicidal, I just want to die sometimes. (I don’t …

When words don’t define you…even though they might. Read More »

Dear son, I did something hard for you. (Again)

Hey, kid. I’m so grateful to be talking to you again in this sort of context. The last time I wrote to you, I was pretty upset over some “conversations” (?) that took place between your (adoptive) dad and I. The conversation wasn’t initiated by me, yet it left me feeling………so many things. Awful? In …

Dear son, I did something hard for you. (Again) Read More »