The patterns I still carry, the ways old experiences can show up in the present, and my effort to sort out what I am remembering from what is actually happening now. Recovery, pattern recognition, regulation, and slowly gathering new evidence.
Shame, guilt, and fear around wanting or needing more than what’s being offered — it feels endless sometimes. I waited days to tell Favorite about the haircut situation because it seemed too outrageous to be believed. That’s familiar territory for me; most of my family pain was dismissed as imagined, exaggerated, or self‑inflicted. I finally forwarded my post to her because she’s someone I want to know the whole truth, especially the parts that make me want to shrink. Her…
I’ve resumed journaling — rigorously, of course, because I tend to do things either with full intensity or not at all. With this man, a widower who lost the love of his life, I’m able to behave a little differently than I would with someone whose story I think I understand. I can’t make the usual assumptions about his motives or reactions. Honestly, I shouldn’t make assumptions with anyone, but I often do. With him, I pause. I go straight…
Last week, Ed, my friend from the mountains, visited for our week together and we had such a nice time doing the most basic shit. Yardwork, making food, checking out a farm store, grabbing lunch at cool cafe, watching almost no TV, walking, bathing, and caring for the dogs. Our four dogs are glorious and motley crew - endless sources of laughter and distraction. When Ed and I are together, we enjoy conversations (about only what is right in front…
A family scapegoat isn’t created because one person is broken, but because the system resists looking at what’s hurting it.
I wouldn’t have chosen the things that harmed me, but I’m grateful and proud of how I’m allowing myself to be shaped by them. Recovery keeps teaching me about mercy, redemption, and reconciliation. I’m awake now, and this quote captures exactly where I am: “I choose to love this time for once with all my intelligence.” — Adrienne Rich, Splittings. In my family of origin, from my earliest days, I felt unwanted, unwelcome, invalid, shunned, and discarded. I learned self‑loathing…
