Three years of loss, heartache, and impossible circumstances dropped me in the middle of a wasteland experience. The questions we ask when we’re distraught, grieving and disillusioned scrawled across tear-stained journal pages and erupted from the depths of my...
By my early-40’s I’d earned a few certificates and degrees, four children, two dogs–and the unenviable position of being diagnosed with several disorders. Anxiety. Depression. PTSD. PMDD. Even a penchant toward dissociation. As a young woman,...
The photo captured my attitude. Sitting at the kitchen table while my three-year-old brother tore cheerful, striped wrapping paper from his gift, I looked as forlorn as any jealous preschooler might–my sulky expression conveying the thoughts I knew I had no...
Fear tracks my steps like a hunter. It knows my habits, weaknesses, and vulnerabilities. Fear launches arrows of trepidation and dread when I linger too long in the wasteland of what-if-outcomes and this-seems-impossible probability. [bbctt tweet=”Fear launches...