I want to be a real boy. Or girl, in this case. And for me, “real” means whole and cohesive and I’m not. It’s one of the things mental illness does. I’m working on getting it back… Continue reading I want to be a real boy (girl, actually).
“The thing I hate most about my depression is that when it’s here, when it’s on the upswing and taking over, who I am disappears. I get lost amidst the blackness, drowned in the sorrow, burned up in the anger. All that is me starts to vanish and I’m terrified I’ll never get myself back…” Continue reading you exist, even when you’re depressed
“I’ve been trying something new with my meditation, now that I’m back to doing it semi-regularly. I’ve been meditating with my eyes open. It’s an odd experience. It makes me feel vulnerable and I don’t like it; generally speaking, vulnerability is not something I do well…” Continue reading eyes open and vulnerable
“there’s something that soothes when you sit by a lake, especially early in the morning, when the temperature has equalized causing the wind to drop off, and the water looks almost like glass, rippling gently as underwater streams flow. it’s a lovely slice of peace and quiet, available to me because even on vacation, i get up early.” Continue reading quiet mornings at the lake.
From Famine to Feast. 