Archive for April, 2020


“If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”

I grew up with people around me that always told me I was “too much”. Too much of a talker, too many emotions, too sensitive, too excited, too dumb, too silly,  too trusting, too gullible, too much me.

I grew up thinking that if I stayed silent and didn’t talk so much that the people I loved would be happier with me. I learned to keep quiet, not express myself, not make a fuss, only talk about the things they wanted to talk about… besides, I wasn’t smart enough to think for myself.

As an adult, anytime I feel stressed or cornered… I would clam up. People I talk to on a regular basis become unsafe in my mind, because I didn’t want them to see the parts of me that I just knew they wouldn’t like. My anxiety and depression are two of my most ugly, hidden, secrets. Why would I ever tell anyone else about my broken insides? So, I keep quiet.

It’s one thing to keep silent on the outside, but it’s a whole other to have a raging storm of fear and anxiety on the inside while you hide it behind a pleasant “everything is fine” smile.


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Blue T-Shirt

Standing by the car crying in my blue t-shirt, braid falling out, pajama pants on.  Social distancing as best I can, from the one person I most wish to touch.

I’ve broken under the strain. I’ve crumpled once again under the pressure.

It’s time to pick yourself up again baby, he tells me gently. You’ve had four weeks to cry, to take off the mask to let yourself out… but it’s time to go back.

My heart is breaking from the loss of a friend. It’s cloaked in fear of an invisible bug that threatens my child’s existence. It’s paralyzed and numb from hours of trying to harness the wind of the world.

I am tired, so tired. How many times have I had to crawl through the fire, burnt to a crisp, a fever no placations will quench?  How many times must I get back up, brush off the ashes, leaving just an inch or two more of my soul laying on the dirt behind me?


A word I have come to love, hate, avoid, run to.

I know I’m strong, the welts and scars across my mind remind me of what I have been through. I know I’ve been through worse storms than this… But how long does a strong tree withstand the wind before it starts to show it’s weak places.  It’s bark starting to peel away from the death that is inside but invisible to anyone who walks by.

Strength is my bark. But the tree inside of me is parched and ready to do one of two things… burst into flame from the friction of life… Blaze up in a glory of golds and yellows and orange, making everyone stare at me in amazement… saying, Look! Look at that! Look what she’s done! She’s so strong! She’s so alive!

or, Do I sink quietly into the earth, crumbling bit by bit with rot while the termites of pain eat away from my insides?

Or is my heart just green enough that it won’t do either thing… It just simply sprouts a new limb full of unfurled buds and stays solidly rooted for just a while longer, nourished by the ashes and the tears.



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This is 46

It’s graying hair and tired body,

Wrinkles, lose skin and droopy boobs.

It’s fears, anxiety, depression,

Years of exhaustion from putting everyone else first.

It’s second guessing EVERYTHING you’ve ever said or done… so you become a better researcher and discover new paths.

It’s feeling completely defeated when you go to bed at night, only to get up the next morning to try again.

It’s thinking before you react to the ones around you… because you know how it feels to be the one reacted upon.

It’s digging deep to find your strength daily, to continue to pick yourself up no matter what the anxiety is whispering in your ear.

It’s taking care of a body that holds so much trauma and tragedy in its every cell that it wants to stall, freeze and shut down. But you work to make it stronger and healthier and don’t let it give in.

It’s being a survivor and a warrior all while being gentle and forgiving… and continuing to love the simple and mundane parts of life.

It’s being a complex, emotional, unstable being… but knowing that doesn’t make you unlovable, it makes you the treasure that you have grown to be.

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