The Leftovers

It’s the hardest thing I’ve gone through. And just when I think I’m free of it–and back to my regular family history/hormonal depression, thank you very much–the leftovers of it hit me again. The guilt I feel for how I struggled. The worries. The fears.

Selling Tickets for the Hot Mess Express

I’ve opened this page more times than I can count to write something, anything, about what’s going on in my head, in our world, in my house, in my state, whatever.

Mini-Me

However, while G was “working out” with me, he would quit, and say, “I can’t do this.” “I fell down, I can’t do it anymore.” “I don’t feel good.” And it broke my heart, because I know exactly where he heard those things.

Restless Souls Unite

The line from Hamilton comes to mind, “Will I ever be satisfied?”

Ten Year Challenge

So yeah, bring it 29.

To My Boys

My children are three and three months, so obviously they don’t understand, they just know maybe mom isn’t there as much as she normally is, especially G. He’s more cognizant of it. If I could tell them anything, I would tell them something like this…

What If…

What if I just…ran away?

Definitions

I don’t think we’re so easily defined. I think life is so much more complicated, and we’re an ever-evolving sum of a variety of things. There’s beauty in that chaos.