There’s a space between underdoing it and overdoing it that other people call Tuesday. I seem to have misplaced mine. It feels ridiculous to me that I, an intelligent 48-year-old woman, still don’t have the sense to stop and rest when I need to. I haven’t ever really known how to. Not consistently. But it’s … Continue reading finding Tuesday…
I've always had itchy skin. Sensitive skin. Problem skin. Whatever polite term the adults around me used, the reality was simple: I reacted to everything. Dryer sheets. Scented detergent. Some makeup made my eyes puff up. Perfumes that smelled terrible and made my arms and neck itch. The solution was also simple. Just avoid ever … Continue reading Was it Strawberries or Was it Stress?
My circadian rhythm and I are no longer on speaking terms. 4:00 am-ish: My partner wakes up for no discernible reason and gets out of bed. I ask the time. Upon learning it’s 4 am, I roll over in an attempt to re-engage with sleep. 4:05 am-ish: From the bed, I request that he please … Continue reading upon a Wednesday morning…
Monday is therapy day for me. It maybe doesn’t seem like a good idea to stack lifelong trauma work and mental health check-ins at the start of a new week in the hellscape we’re all living through… but somehow it works. I get just enough distance from the last week to reflect and reset before … Continue reading Masking Monday: The Illness I Pretend Isn’t There
Thyroid meds, dread, hope, and lotion on the skin. I am fragile like a bomb… carving out space for joy while my body recalibrates.
CamiKaos 