I am so sad. This is, of course, to be expected. And yet I fight the urge to pretend everything is OK. Because the truth is, I feel done being sad. Mentally, I want to skip over it, bury it, stuff it on a plane, mail it to Timbuktu, do anything with sad except BE
Have you ever had a hurt that just hurt too much to bear on your own? Today, that was me. I was up at 3 am, hurting, and felt alone. I searched Facebook. Where I can post and get support without feeling shame for being so emotional? After all,
You may have noticed I've been a little quiet on my blog these days. Writing takes my jumbled-up puzzle of feelings, and creates order from chaos, forming a picture I can understand and can communicate to others. "Finally," I say after writing a post, "I know how I feel!" But with the
A thought keeps running through my mind. "I wish holiday stress was just about getting the right gifts, hosting family, and managing a full schedule of parties and commitments. Anything but THIS." I don't know what your THIS is. In the past, our THIS has been the worry of premature birth and a traumatic
There is this one show I watched recently called Elizabeth Town. The lead female character is a flight attendant, and she serves a young man on his way to take care of the funeral arrangements for his recently deceased dad. The storyline set up is pretty clear. She's the one he's meant to be with.