It’s a strange morning. I’ve been pedaling hard for weeks. Sometimes when you’re working this hard, it’s because you’ve got your eye on the prize. You’re going somewhere in a hurry. Working towards a specific goal puts a fire in your belly and you go go go.
But there are other times when you work just as hard not because you’re working towards something — » Read more
They told me recovery would be hard. Harder than anything I’d ever been through. Than anything I could imagine.
But that it’d be doable, provided I took it one tiny piece at a time. That was the biggest key — not trying to contend with everything before me at the same time.
It was so easy to get overwhelmed otherwise. » Read more
I recently wrote an essay called “It Was Terrifying the First Time I Dated Someone Who Was Really Good to Me.” Here’s an excerpt:
I was used to being self-reliant. I had been conditioned my entire life to never ask for help because it meant being sharply criticized by others or told that I was weak for asking. » Read more
There are a few things about grief that I wish I had known a long time ago. Before the losses started and I was forced to make sense of it all.
And failed miserably.
These days, I’m much more comfortable with grief. Not that anyone ever wishes it on anyone else — » Read more
I’m sorry it hurts right now.
The wound is fresh. And while I wish there were some way that I could just make the pain go away, I can’t.
No one can.
It’s going to hurt you every time you think of it. Sometimes this will happen at weird moments. » Read more
I remember the first time I heard the term “secondary gain.”
I was transcribing charts for a large hospital system. I had recently transitioned to a floating role, where I had a primary hospital account I worked for but had been considered flexible and capable enough to work basically anywhere. To cover other people’s time off. » Read more
“I read today’s article, the one about recovery,” she says. “And I think you’re right about spite being a powerful motivator.”
I nod. “Especially when you’re down in it. People tell you that you need to love yourself to be healthy. But when you’re emotionally unwell, it isn’t like self-love is all that accessible. » Read more
“I can’t go without shaving down there anymore,” she says. “And it has nothing to do with feminism. Or being anti-feminism. ”
“Oh yeah?” I say. Because I don’t know what else to say. Over the months we’ve worked together, she’s become progressively more comfortable around me. Probably because I never freak out about what she says, » Read more
Justin’s in the kitchen, sitting on the floor. Messing with our shoes. He looks like he’s organizing them on the rack next to the back door. He looks up at me. “Hi sweetie.”
“Hi,” I choke out, my greeting barely audible over the Electric Light Orchestra spilling out of the speaker. I dart back to the living room. » Read more
My husband and I have been swinging. About a year ago I got sober. I’m an alcoholic. Ever since then, I’ve had no interest in going back to swinging, but he won’t stop bringing it up. I’m not sure how to approach this. He’s been caught cheating before, » Read more