Guest Blogs

Would You Be Me?

This deeply resonates with me.

Patricia Grace

Exhaustion runs deep, into my core, my blood, bones, every atom of my being. I am tired. Even with enough sleep, I am tired. Winter’s weariness? Failures of self?

“It hard being me,” I lament to a friend, and whisper out-loud to the gods. It is hard being me, and I’m tired of it.

My thoughts tend to believe the worst every time, and that tendency consumes me in winter. Bleakness of soul matches the frigid temps. The havoc of this engulfs me in ways that wreck relationships. Others there willing to love, offering warmth and real caring, are shoved away brusquely. My best feature is turning away from you coldly.

Is that all there is left from childhood? Taking my trust, only coldness remains. I need you to keep away from me. Aloof, yet needy. It is so tiring being me. Dreaming of being someone else consumes me once…

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Mental Health

Beneath the Surface

It’s been three weeks since I spoke on the phone with my brother, Kevin – the brother who physically, emotionally, psychologically, and sexually abused me for years as a child and teenager. It was the first time we have spoken in twenty-seven years. He called my folks on Christmas day. My mother, who has Alzheimer’s… Continue reading Beneath the Surface

Guest Blogs

The Quiet Descent to Tender Ground

The healing power of perseverance…

Untangled

Eight years of muscle straining, oxygen deprived, mind exploding, grief-laden work to manage the grip of the skeleton hands of the past.

The rocky terrain and deep crevasses that held the traps of programmed words ready to pull me down into oblivion were navigated at a snail’s pace of impatient mindfulness.

Deafening winds and echoes of the past kept knocking me down, pushing me sideways, making it hard to grip the rope.

After every storm passed
I took the time to rest in the snow caves of acceptance.

So many times, wanting to give up, give in to the beast of symptoms.
But trusting, knowing, that my Sherpa would guide me through the sharpest peaks and deepest valleys.

Summiting many times, thinking there were no more hidden mountains.
Then catching glimpse of the last, gnarly climb looming just around the bend.

Everything inside me screams, “No, leave it!”
I intuitively…

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Mental Health

Phone Call with My Brother

I went to my mother and stepfather’s over the Christmas holiday, to bring my mother to my oldest brother’s house to spend Christmas with our family – sans my abusive brother, Kevin. While visiting with my parents, Kevin called to wish them Merry Christmas. As he spoke with my mother, I heard him ask how… Continue reading Phone Call with My Brother

Mental Health

Stability is a Good Thing

I haven’t been posting much lately because I’ve felt like I have nothing to write about. Nothing much has been happening in my life these past few months – other than my abusive brother contacting me, that is, which I just wrote about. Then there’s the publication of my book and the two readings I… Continue reading Stability is a Good Thing

Taking Care of Myself

My Brother Made Contact

For those of you who have been following my blog, you know that I was sexually, physically, and psychologically abused by one of my older brothers for years. I’ve written about my resulting PTSD and the personal challenges I have faced in learning to live with the effects of trauma. I’ve written about my healing… Continue reading My Brother Made Contact

Guest Blogs

GROWTH

Patricia Grace

Living a reclusive life doesn’t mean no opportunity for growth. No matter how I hide it comes knocking, and knocking me down. Those closest offer the greatest opportunity at overcoming long standing behaviors that keep me from my best self.

Instead of pouting, turning off and away with coldness from loved ones who hurt me, the pain and tears come. And come some more. Old wounds not healed, (can they ever be?) are easily made to open causing today’s hurt to compound into pain that doubles me over.

So this is healing. Tears, pain, then more of both. The damage done was that much.

And after the tears, though more leak out over time, there is a lightness and forgiveness for those whose insensitivities caused so much pain. Pain that did not match the circumstances. Pain that went much deeper.

Why does this affect me so? Going there, opening the…

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