Life Savers

These are my six life savers
I take them each night
without shame
without fear of judgement
out in the open
not hidden in the bathroom
or the closet
two bring me sleep
two bring me alive
two bring me through
all six allow me to breathe
day in and day out

I supplement these life savers
with meditation
and mindfulness
with yoga
and essential oils
with nature and toes in dirt
with lungs filled with fresh crisp air
with giggles of my children
and kisses from my love
with words that bleed
from my fingertips to the page
these are my six life savers

#noshame #mytruth #thestruggleisreal #depression #anxiety #grief #insomnia #ptsd #mooddisorder #bipolar #breathe #everydamnday #transparent #authentic #connection


Self Care 101: listen to your body. Always. It knows.

As someone with a history of disordered eating, severe depression, anxiety, PTSD, insomnia, grief, surgery induced menopause (goddammit!), adult diagnosed ADD (seriously?!), autoimmune disease, and all the ‘other’ ‘regular’ shit of life-ing and mom-ing and wife-ing and writing and working and schooling and and and (can you say, ‘hot mess’?)…it’s easy to fall back into old habits. To not make the best choices when it comes to food and water and sleep and all of the other oh so important for survival self-care things.
It’s so easy, that I usually don’t even realize I’ve fallen back into those bad habits until it’s too late.
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bluetooth connections from the grave



I pull open the car door. Climb in. All the soft blurred in shape lines of my body settle into the soft worn blurred in shape contours of the leather seat. Feel the cold steel metal of the key in my hand as I slide it into the ignition, and turn. The machine stretches and yawns and let’s out a low rumble as it awakens and comes to life.

I sit for a moment in the silent cocoon of the space. Feeling the car stretch and shake out all its limbs. Feeling the vibration of the engine as it pulsates through metal and plastic and leather and skin and muscle and bone.

Silently, and without hesitation, phone and car reach out and search for each other. Mysteriously connecting over the airwaves. Desperate to feel the fingertip touch of current and connection. A heartbeat that allows them to communicate.

I’m sure I haven’t turned on the Bluetooth on my phone.

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I love you grievers.

Up, Up and Her Way

for Ann.

I love you grievers

you who reveal to near strangers your deepest wailing. at first, because you have to. because it cannot be contained. because it is the truest expression of you. you who have never been more you while feeling so completely foreign and unknown to yourself

you who continue to reveal your deepest wailing after it is no longer inevitable. after you have come to find the sliver of self-control that can keep it under wraps. but you don’t anymore.

I love you grievers who keep revealing yourself anyway

I love you grievers

you who are angry. who look to the heavens and condemn the god you don’t believe in. who are willing to look the Father in the eye and say Fuck You! Fuck You for leaving me here with this. for taking my beloved. the one I cannot live without and then watch me…

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mascara, leg warmers, and secrets


It was either 7th or 8th grade (I’m not sure which, those awkward and icky junior high years all blend together in a memory of general horrifying suck) when I started sneaking makeup to school. My mom would drop me off in front of school, kiss me goodbye, and I had just enough time to run to the girls’ bathroom and apply the makeup before homeroom class. Circa 1986/1987(ish)? Blue eye shadow. Eye liner. Sparkly lip gloss. Just a hint of color on my cheeks. The day would end with a return trip to the bathroom to quickly erase the evidence, and walk home the pure natural innocent girl that my mom had dropped at the school gates that morning.

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let’s talk about it

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You’re going to die one day. I know, I know. You don’t want to read this. You don’t want to hear it. You don’t want to acknowledge that. But it’s pure truth. Not morbid. Just real honest this is how this life shit works. We live. And then we die.

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