At some point fairly recently I finally acknowledged that a fair portion of my completely exhausting myself before noon has nothing to do with effort and everything to do with momentum. If I wake up with nothing structured or enforced ahead of me, I will either absolutely, deeply, fully do nothing… or I’ll ricochet from … Continue reading trying not to tilt…
Tag: healing
poems lost between midnight and morning…
Last night, as my mind was grasping at straws for a reason to be awake, it started narrating the pain flaring in my lower back and hips. Turning it into words. Into poetry. Little visual metaphors born from the feeling of pain itself. My mind screamed about it long enough that I finally picked up … Continue reading poems lost between midnight and morning…
finding Tuesday…
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…
Was it Strawberries or Was it Stress?
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?
do not see me…
There are times I do not want to be perceived. Whole stretches. Weeks when I am strictly available to my tiny family and no one else. I’ve always been like this: I withdraw, go hermit, disappear. In chat apps you can flip yourself to “away.” Your dot dims. People can still ping you, but the … Continue reading do not see me…
No One Sees the Dial
I started the morning with a video a friend sent me. In it, a guy was talking about his workout attitude. He had been all-or-nothing. If he couldn’t do it perfectly, he wouldn’t do it at all. That hit me. Hard. I’ve been circling around this idea for years: literal thinking, binary thinking, the trap … Continue reading No One Sees the Dial
Treat the Symptom, Tend the Soul…
Thyroid meds, dread, hope, and lotion on the skin. I am fragile like a bomb… carving out space for joy while my body recalibrates.
back in the box…
Sometimes, I just stop. Not because the day is over. Not because everything’s done. But because I’ve reached my limit. Sensory, emotional, existential—doesn’t matter which. My system throws a little internal breaker switch and suddenly it’s time. Back in the box. It’s not a literal box (though if you told me I could crawl into … Continue reading back in the box…
my history of understanding friendship — act I: the bracelet-making soulmate and the life-sized goodbye..
When I was a kid, friendship felt pretty straightforward. You’d walk up to another kid on the playground and ask if they wanted to play. If they said yes and were nice, boom: friend. If they said no or broke one of my sacred, unspoken rules? Not a friend. Just some kid with poor judgment. … Continue reading my history of understanding friendship — act I: the bracelet-making soulmate and the life-sized goodbye..