let the light in
Constantly fixing myself gets old, and I’m trying to let go of always trying to ‘be better’. I’m sick of focusing on what doesn’t work in my life. I’m tired of feeling like a victim from life’s struggle. Let’s go with new thinking! Continue reading “working on growing up” »
My parents and me arriving in San Francisco
Mental illness is much bigger than most of us. Hospitals are full of clinically diagnosed people like my best friend, who spent her entire life in them and knows nothing else.
We have undiagnosed mental illnesses that cause those who suffer from it to self-medicate, with substances like drugs and alcohol. There’s behavioral mental illness, like gambling and overeating. Many of us suffer from more than one kind. Continue reading “mental anguish” »
trajectories
Where do the words go when we have said them? Margaret Atwood asks that question, and I have also asked it before. Some people don’t even think about where words go or where consequences split away from our thoughts. I also want to know what happens to consequences that we don’t get from choosing different behavior? Continue reading “considerations” »
it’s not easy to sit
There is a time and place, and I have reached a new time and a new mental place. Something shifted. At my tender age, it’s a miracle that I can still change. Continue reading “sitting here is hard” »
imaginary map of the world
Think of our blood and how old it is. I traveled to South Carolina last November, and traced genealogy back six generations. I found Columbia’s First Presbyterian Church and their graves were next to the main street, which means the relatives must have been one of the first families buried there when the church was built. Continue reading “coursing blood” »
someday I will make the most beautiful art in the world
Thinking about the relationship between what is beautiful and what is true, reminds me of one of my high school students long ago.
John was super bright, but stifled when it came to accepting his artistic talent and his brains. He was the type of boy who would rather suffer consequences from doing nothing, instead of making an effort on any given project. That’s why he was at our school for at-risk students. I loved his poetry when he did write in English, and his way of expressing himself moved me deeply. Continue reading “truth and beauty” »
health helicopter
Second husband had an aneurysm yesterday, and was flown from Alaska’s Prince of Wales (POW) Island to Seattle by helicopter or something dramatic like that. His children from multiple marriages were present at his side, including mine, and he’s sounding perky, like he’ll make it. Continue reading “Divorce Effects” »
I call her Lindy
Nobody expected my best friend Lindy’s crack-up to last her lifetime, plucked and placed behind double locked doors in various California mental hospitals. Nothing I do changes what happened to her. Her six other sisters didn’t wind up that way. Lindy never learned to function, outside of grabbing a dinner tray, going through a meal line, and returning for dessert. Continue reading “Why I wrote a memoir” »
accountability can feel like an attack when it’s not
Sometimes other people ‘s lives and stories matter more than mine, and I emesh into problems that don’t concern me. I’m learning to distinguish between my love of stories and my respect for other people’s privacy. The important difference is to be clear about who I am from who other people are.
I shared a story of struggle that belonged to someone, and a lady confronted me. She made me understand that the story I told was not mine to tell. Continue reading “accepting criticism” »
