I decided to use my phone instead of my barely working work laptop. I always pride myself with the most common sense of anyone I know. Except my mother who died 4 1/2 years ago. She never needed anything explained to her. She figured it out. She was a doer…

“I am sorry. I just had to unmute myself. I saw Sara’s message in the chat. About feeling guilty for drinking a few glasses of wine. I don’t think any of us who drink should feel guilty. They spend 3 hours in the middle of the day having lunch and…

Week 3- It’s not the therapy…. Therapy was not terrible this week. I actually wrote breathe on my calendar for the week. The facilitator admitted in group therapy that the breathe in for 4…….. hold for 8…….. and let it out for 7 was too hard. She let us breathe…

“Group therapy is stupid. So fucking stupid.” I am stomping in our bedroom walking in small circles as I say that out loud. Not just once. Or twice. Maybe a good 6 full small circles. I grab a glass of ice and add water. Grab my cough drops. Click on…

i am back in group therapy. i said never would try again. too many shaming groups of being called out for not saying a word. too many other groups where I over identified and helped people outside the group. Apparently, that is part of group therapy rules. No talking to…

Summer nights I hear the propellers pushing through the swamp like air. It’s summer in Washington DC. It’s hot. Humid hot. Sweat dripping off my arm hot. People who come from the west coast always ask what happened to the dry heat? I remind them, after 26 years of living…

I looked up menopause on Mayo Clinic’s website “ may affect emotional health.” Hmmmm. I wish I could blame menopause. I’m trying to rationalize in my distorted mind that my daily crying spells is the beginnings of menopause. I excitedly tell my husband as the Atlantic Ocean waves roll over…

My mother was fierce. Her mother too. I learned that from both of them. I lost the two most important women in my life. I never came back from that. Four years ago I slept next to my mother on the floor. She in a comfortable next to me. Why…

I cannot swim. The irony is not lost on me that I love the ocean. The sound of the waves. It gives me a break from thinking of the 52 years that proceeded me. The ocean gives me the gift of washing so many seashells on the beach with holes…