Growing up in Virginia my parents always had a lovely garden. They still do, actually. Every year they compost and dig and plant and in the summers appear beautiful tomatoes, beans, eggplants, lettuce and lots of other things. I wasn't much into digging in the dirt when I was a kid though, so when I moved into my first house with Mike in Los Angeles back in 1999 and wanted to start a garden, my parents were a little surprised. But for me, it made it really feel like home. I now had a house and a husband; I felt grounded, and so maybe, the ground called to me.
Mike wasn't much into digging in the dirt either. But he said if I planted hot peppers, which he loved, that he would help me. So we dug out the grass in the back yard and planted all the things we wanted to eat together. I still remember him picking a ripe cherry bomb pepper, taking a bite off the end and declaring it delicious and rather sweet and wouldn't I like to try it; me, not so much. I was afraid of the heat but he insisted it wasn't that hot. Of course the nibble I took also included a few seeds and my mouth exploded into fire! I ran to the garden hose and tried to put it out. He felt bad but we both laughed a long time about that one.
It still shocks me how totally ignorant I was about the grieving process before having to go through it myself. I've been at this for ten months, as of today, and I still don't really understand it. All I know is one minute I can be laughing at a joke; or smiling at strangers as I walk down the street; or excitedly making plans for a holiday; or wrestling and giggling with my nephews ... and the next minute I can hardly breathe from the pain of missing him.
I honestly can't remember the last day I didn't cry. Sometimes it's only for two minutes, other days it takes two hours before I can pull myself together. I’m having a lot of those days again lately, which is so exhausting.Read more
There's someone I've been neglecting for the past 3.5 years.
She is strong, but has infrequent, spectacular meltdowns due to the ....(there is no word to describe this but widows know the feeling) .... of it all.
She loves hard, but falls hard.
She picks herself back up again, dusts herself off and keeps going.
She takes every sling and arrow personally .... yet never backs away from fighting for something she believes in.
Every time I dissolve into tears and those tears, instead of cleansing, dissolve into more tears and a spiral down into depression and anxiety, I realize I'm worrying about the same things. I'm stuck. It's the SSDD syndrome: Same Shit, Different Day.
Ugh. Insomnia. We have been enemies friends for six very long years.
I have tried sleeping pills. I have tried everything natural. I've tried having a normal routine. I’ve tried to not let myself lay in bed and stare at the ceiling for longer than 30 minutes before I get up and read, take a hot shower, attempt something to help me sleep.
I've told myself for the last year that as long as I am laying down, at least my body is resting. I have convinced myself that as long as I let my body rest for eight hours, I will be fineRead more
You know that feeling….
You can do it all.
Conquer it all.
Get through it all.
You enter any situation or place almost as if you own the joint, simply because they’re by your side.
All is right.
All that isn’t, will soon be.
All is sound.
You have the unquestionable and unshakeable knowledge that you are deeply loved.
For all that you are.
All that you’ll be.
Last Wednesday I had a session with an amazing healer right when I thought I couldn't go another step in this life without something major happening to lighten the pain I was experiencing in my heart and soul.Read more