Family in Town (a poem about family, loss, addiction, and change)

Family in town and from out of town sometimes means heavy remembering, and just a little trying to forget though you are no longer disappearing. Into the bottle. Family in town means many goings-on, even when you’re sick and tired.  It means running out of money. It means trying hard to make everyone happy.  Trying … Continue reading Family in Town (a poem about family, loss, addiction, and change)

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How to Love a Drunk: Bits of My Story are published and #FFWgr

How to Love a Drunk When you’re an alcoholic you get to tell your story  and admit to your illness at the oddest moments. There is usually no time to prepare emotionally or to get the words just right.  What comes is what comes.  I actually enjoy these unrehearsed moments.  The questions I’m asked push … Continue reading How to Love a Drunk: Bits of My Story are published and #FFWgr

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{When the Truth Hurts: “Being Broken” is Not My Life’s Metanarrative}

Rilke says to celebrate the questions. 1. A truth has circled me like a persistent fly, zooming in close and then away again. When I stare straight at it, it becomes momentarily clear. Then suddenly it’s gone disappearing into thin air. The truth hurts almost as much as my perception of my Being Broken has wounded me, at … Continue reading {When the Truth Hurts: “Being Broken” is Not My Life’s Metanarrative}

If Winter is Dying, then Writing is Life

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This isn’t my usual type of post. I have some thoughts ruminating into a slow boil. Aching about justice & the Stand Your Ground law and being white and privileged. A response. But I need more time to mull. I finished the article on loving a drunk for Today’s Christian Woman. Ahem, I know. I’m not a likely writer for … Continue reading If Winter is Dying, then Writing is Life

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When I Was A Falling Down Drunk: A Love Story

It’s only been a few days but I feel it.  In the hidden, hard place where I keep my little girl heart that learned to be scared too early.  That place in my heart has shifted. It might be that I am writing out the story of how I once was a falling down drunk.  … Continue reading When I Was A Falling Down Drunk: A Love Story

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As The Winter Is Long [a NEW Poem]

In the dreary midwinter time is never-ending and merciless. I chase the shadow’s bright reflections, brittle patterns on the silvery snow. This distracts me from the echoing lament I woke with today. Melancholy sits dismally on my chest, like a lethargic cat As I consider what’s gone wrong with me. There’s always something and I’m … Continue reading As The Winter Is Long [a NEW Poem]

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New Year, Old Pain, Sudden Hope: When Depression and Heartbreak do not Win

[Warning: this is longer than my usual posts. 2,779 words] “In the silence of the heart God speaks. If you face God in prayer and silence, God will speak to you. Then you will know that you are nothing. It is only when you realize your nothingness, your emptiness, that God can fill you with … Continue reading New Year, Old Pain, Sudden Hope: When Depression and Heartbreak do not Win

{Chasing the Light}

Writing about sobriety puts a pit in my stomach today. I am sober but many days this doesn’t by implication mean happy.  Getting dry isn’t a formula for bliss.  It is only a pathway toward discovery. When I was a drunk I didn’t feel sensation – there was mostly emptiness.  I didn’t feel the ache … Continue reading {Chasing the Light}

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The Tale that Cautions: I was a Drunk

I write down words. I was a drunk. It hurts still, the heavy story bulges in my heart. Knowing it’s true, that’s one thing. Going back to the vomit and need and empty ache the desperation sits heavy with me again all day. But in writing comes a slow redemption. My words are a gift: … Continue reading The Tale that Cautions: I was a Drunk

A Bad Poem About My Sobriety

SOBER. Antonyms: alcoholic, drinker, drunk, lush, souse, wino I’m Sober today. But I’m clutching at it. And not contentedly. Control is an illusion. I’m powerless, that I can confess. Today, when the whole thing, my duct-taped heart, feels like it’s falling apart and I’m heart racing tired, knowing I should never get.this.way. I think, “If I could I’d smoke then, … What?” But the broken down lungs no longer cooperate. I want … Continue reading A Bad Poem About My Sobriety

{Ten Thousand Tears}

My tears are welcome. I see them splattered, dried on my glasses as I peer out the window into the wintry, cold, gray, foggy morning; tiny specks on the panes of my eyeglasses. I wipe hard at these dried salty witnesses. They are a record of my sodden heart. Ten thousand tears come raining down. The soil of … Continue reading {Ten Thousand Tears}