I drew people to me who had vacant spaces where love should be, and I shoveled myself into those holes, sweating and aching with the effort it takes to fill the unfillable. Continue reading Job Title: Hole-Filler (a letter of resignation)
You KNOW what you WANT – to relieve anxiety, to feel better in your body, to be productive, to feel happier. You start the week with goals, you may even have a plan this time — but by the end of the week you are back to the old patterns. Continue reading Set Your Intentions and Achieve Your Dreams
Most of us know it well. You are scrolling though Facebook and there’s another one of her photos with her cute hair and happy kids. Your comparing mind starts piping up: “Ugh, she is always doing SOMETHING. Who has time for that? She’s so perky; how annoying. I’m probably a bad mom because I’m not taking my kids to the zoo every other day. I really should be better at that.” Continue reading Standing up to ‘The Comparing Mind’
This past weekend we took our little family on a mini-vacation to visit Chicago — see the sights, ride the train, show the kids the ‘Big City.’ But me for it meant so much more. Continue reading Returning Home
It was an underlying sense that something was slipping through my fingers, but I couldn’t quite figure out what. It was a feeling that something else existed in the world that was just outside of my awareness. I was missing it and I needed it, but I couldn’t find it. Continue reading The Dread Pit
It’s that time of year. The giddy excitement of holidays and fresh snow is gradually replaced by the dread of scraping frosted windshields (again) and the monotony of wiping up wet, brown footprints. We grow bored with our cute sweaters, and our fur-lined boots are scuffed and crusted with salt. Continue reading Feeling S.A.D.? Me too.
A poem of struggle and excuses. (It’s never too late for a new beginning.) Continue reading What I Found at the Bottom of Every Bottle I Ever Drank
Thought you’d skipped town for good. Yet I keep catching glimpses of you creeping around again, under the clutter in my messy house and behind the quinoa in my secret stash of Oreos. Continue reading Hey Depression, old pal