The Dust Bunnies and the Broken Hearts of Mental Illness

I say the things aloud. It is an effort. I want to make them come true. “I will clean today. I will cook dinner. I will go to the bank.” Even as I speak the words I know how unlikely it is that I will be able to do more than sit here. Breathing under water is life…

{My Silence, Depression’s Lies, and Faith}

I LIVE depression is a liar wailing. it hates you as much as you hate it.  and you know, you fear eventually the battle will be won. you may not be the victor. still you will fight  the raging storm inside your brain. to stop would be suicide. life goes on, you cannot stop for Love remains….

{This is for the Dads. I See You}

This blurry pic, a copy of a copy, is my father holding my son.  You cannot see it from this cropped copy but they are sitting on the floor. This is for the dads, I see you. Recently at wedding of two friends it hit me.  I’m past the feeling of broken-heart-ache when I see…

{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…

Life is not Pass or Fail: A Mother’s Day Remembrance

I have always seen “weakness” as a defect and here on this blog I say a lot about what I consider to be my own weaknesses – the narrative playing in my head and here on these pages for years has been a fear that I am too broken and weak to be useful at all….

Living a Life Worthy of Writing. It’s Complicated

It is Virginia Woolf who is credited with the notion that for most of history anonymous was a woman. I thought of that yesterday when a friend (who is more like a mentor) was intently praising me on my writing and expressed that I should continue. Then she said, “Perhaps you should write under a…

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…

I BELIEVE, HELP!

I cannot see the future. That’s what makes today hard faith, not constructs, conjecture or speculation. This is faith in the Present Personal God. And the unknown, unwritten, unlived days ahead, and today a (not so) Simple Practice. Today I have my need, absurdly. My inability to hope beyond a millisecond, my fear, my lack…

I’m Already Drowning

The noise of him rising wakes me, suddenly aware of morning.  I must have slept, for I am now fully awake. Before any awareness of the day a familiar dread pounds inside, stomach lurching. Life’s burdens stream in, pooling around as the bed floats. A Swelling river of tears, and fear and heartache.  I’m already…

Waiting to be Born

What is waiting to be born inside me, hope and delicate, childlike faith and courage.  I am wrecked, at the moment.  Empty, consumed, used up and useful to no one. This life is too much to bear. I’m waiting for it. I’m wavering, it is flickering within enough to burn. Bright and on, or out….

Starting Again, Come Monday

  “Any idiot can face a crisis; it’s the day-to-day living that wears you out…”  — Chekov It is the today, yesterday, and tomorrow; the calamities converging into a sucker punch, so that my ears are ringing, bumping and bashing back and forth, I’m wobbly. I’m done.   My heart hurts, my body even hurts from the…

All is Grace, Part One: the Story of Sober Me

Have I turned any other direction but to sit with my pain? No saint here, bound and praying. I couldn’t quit all the vices, they were many, without God’s quiet stillness ushered in. A moment of need and prostrate humbled, obviously being a fallen down drunk, I opened. In later years, when life wasn’t still,…