I’m obsessed with the idea of boundaries because my parents don’t have any. None. Nada. Zip. They don’t believe their children should have individual personalities. We are reflections of them and therefore must replicate their ideology identically. My brother is the favored child because he is a boy and the oldest. he also followed more… Continue Reading
I’ve known since I was very young that there was something wrong with me. I wasn’t like other kids and they didn’t seem to think the way I did. I didn’t have any real friends–not the way other kids had friends. They talked about the tv shows they watched (I didn’t watch much tv) or… Continue Reading
My mother called the other night. She wanted to complain about my father again. She knows she shouldn’t, but she can’t help herself. I tried to be sympathetic/empathetic, but we’ve been doing this dance for forty years (ever since she made me her confidante when I was 11). This time, though, instead of dancing around… Continue Reading
It’s been nine months since that fateful night. That’s enough time to create a new person–which is pretty much what I did. Yes, I’m the same person as I was before that night, but I’m also–not. This is something I’ve had to live with for the past nine months–the tension between two seemingly disparate things.… Continue Reading
I hate positive mantras with a passion. Or rather, I hate empty positive mantras with a passion. It’s been a bugaboo all my life–positive affirmations that had no basis in reality. I know that there have been studies that say that positive affirmations are, ahem, a positive thing and that Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT, which… Continue Reading
One of my biggest assets–and flaws–is that I am a chameleon when I talk to people. I have exemplary people skills, but it’s more a burden than a blessing. I’ve written before that I’m excellent at reading people. I rarely tell them about themselves, but it’s knowledge I silently file away. Simultaneously, I was raised… Continue Reading
It’s almost nine months since that fateful night. When I first got out of the hospital, I gave myself six months not to think about my future…which dragged into nine months. I could say it’s because I’m rehabbing, but that would be a lie. I left the hospital, came home, and was good to go… Continue Reading
Several years ago, Ian and I had a pizza with sauerkraut, sour cream, and German sausage. I’m sure there was more on it, but that’s what I remember. It was thick crust and gooey with melted cheese. This was before I went gluten-free, dairy-free, obviously, but it was still a lot for my poor system.… Continue Reading
It’s almost nine months since I died twice–and came back twice! The latter fact is very important to the narrative. Obviously. If that hadn’t happened, then I wouldn’t be able to write this. That still trips me up when I think about it, by the way. The fact that I should be dead. It’s also… Continue Reading
When I was a little girl, I assumed I’d grow up, get married, and have children. Oh, going to college should be in there before the getting married bit. In fact, that’s where it was assumed I would find my husband. This was just a given, and it did not fill me with any joy.… Continue Reading