My post-apocalyptic quest towards the light
For weeks, I’ve been picking my way through a post that I can’t seem to pin down. It’s an important one so I’ve been whittling away at it a little bit at a time. Well, maybe not whittling – more like taking an axe to the dang thing every few days and then starting over.... Continue Reading →
Yesterday morning, I settled into my comfy chair with a cup of coffee steaming nearby. My dogs positioned themselves at my feet and a cat settled on my lap between me and my computer. Dvořák’s New World Symphony offered just the right amount of background blur to encourage my creativity to hum along. I have... Continue Reading →
“Maybe you don’t feel like it, but you need to do it anyway.” That’s what the little voice inside my head kept repeating this morning. It’s Sunday. I was still in my pajamas with a cat on my lap as the clock ticked ever closer to 10 am. I’m not going to lie, there are... Continue Reading →
After a major trauma, an ever-expanding collection of discarded calendar pages can sometimes feel like a small achievement to savor. It allows you to quantify how far you’ve come since your life disintegrated before your very eyes. It provides an opportunity to look at the progress you’ve made and set a plan of attack for... Continue Reading →
Today is publishing day! When I was very young, my mom would fetch our ancient typewriter out of the closet every single time I asked. It was heavy and I was small. She would position it carefully on the kitchen table. Then, I would climb up onto the orange, bar-height, vinyl, revolving chair and prepare... Continue Reading →
I have a lot of magnets on my fridge. Most are photos of places and people I like to look at every time I’m in the kitchen. My fridge is a giant collage frame, but with yummy things to eat and drink stashed just behind the memories. There are a few other magnets too, like... Continue Reading →
It's official, folks! I have co-authored a book with my good friend and PTSD specialist, Dr. Lisa Campbell. Behavioral Activation for PTSD: A Workbook for Men applies the principles of the proactive behavioral activation approach to trauma-related symptoms. It offers exercises to help survivors overcome their triggers and avoidance behaviors by reintroducing positive, mood-boosting activities.... Continue Reading →
I am not going to sugarcoat this, today’s been rough. I’ve been humming along, cheerful and almost-whole for a while now. So this morning I didn’t recognize what was happening at first. Then it hit me, I was triggering and it was because Christine Blasey Ford was testifying in front of the whole dang country.... Continue Reading →
Think about your brain’s memory storage system. What comes to mind? For me, as someone leaning toward the visual side of life, it’s an image – my brain is a giant file cabinet. I know, I know – not very original. But never fear, it’s not one of those ugly office colors like putty or... Continue Reading →
When you are a trauma survivor, especially someone recovering from PTSD, you may feel like you have no choice but to lead a double life. On one side, you stand up as the whole you, your trauma truth has already been revealed and your friends and family have the information they need to comprehend your... Continue Reading →
In October of 2016, I was not myself. I wasn’t doing any of the things I love to do, the things that make me happy. I wasn’t writing. I wasn’t taking photos. I couldn’t read a novel or watch a full-length movie from start to finish. Getting through one book chapter or 22-minute sitcom was... Continue Reading →
When I was a teenager, I painted my walls green and papered them with European travel posters and impressionist reproductions. Art and travel – these particular passions haven’t changed much since then except that, as I’ve wandered, my tastes have expanded in ways I never would have predicted. As a bonus, these loves of mine... Continue Reading →
Since 2010, the U.S. has recognized June 27th as National PTSD Awareness Day. The depictions you've seen on TV or in the movies are not always what PTSD looks like. Educate yourself. Take the time to learn about some of the ways post-traumatic stress can impact survivors and the people who care about them. Developing... Continue Reading →
On my very worst day, as I struggled to remember how to breathe, I held my child close and reminded myself that it could be worse. He could be dead. He could be missing. But he wasn’t. He was alive and I knew exactly where he was. In the days, weeks and months that followed,... Continue Reading →
You know those things you use so often that you just can’t see them clearly anymore? We all have them. Maybe it’s your favorite pair of sneakers. They were cute and new when you walked all over London in them, but now they’re dirty and lopsided. You don’t see their degeneration because every time you... Continue Reading →
I was sprawled belly down on my bedroom floor at 7 or 8, my little brother next to me, his hair sprouting from his head in springy, yellow question marks. We hovered over an old tape recorder, two of my fingers in position on the buttons, one black and one red, ready to act. The... Continue Reading →
The two-year anniversary of the crime is stalking me - almost at a cellular level. It’s part of my skin, my bones, my soul. With each day, the tick-tick-tock inside my brain gets incrementally louder. I don’t know how this year will differ from last. I imagine it might be a little easier to keep... Continue Reading →
In May of 2016, I went to bed as me and woke up in someone else’s life. I may have come a long way since then, but I’d be lying if I said I don’t have some residual issues hanging on like parasites. Most of the time, I have trouble understanding how it’s taken so... Continue Reading →
My blog has multiple personality disorder. At times it’s a fun, lighthearted travel romp full of exciting destinations and mouth-watering food. Sometimes it’s replete with photos of cute, zany pets who make me laugh. But at other times, on the darkest of days, it’s a dive into the mind of a woman, the mother of... Continue Reading →
For many months, I couldn’t find my voice. It was nothing more than a weak, insubstantial tangle of words. Without it I felt lost and adrift in the dark. My light, the one that I cherish above all others for its capacity to bare my soul and expose my heart to the world, was gone.... Continue Reading →
I don’t cry in public. Maybe a few tears during an emotional scene in a movie, or when I smack into a tragic moment in history, like at the 9/11 Museum in NYC. But otherwise, no tears. It’s not because I don’t feel sorrow or joy; I just don’t do big public displays of emotion.... Continue Reading →
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