 I remember walking up the stairs to Robert’s apartment, determined to end the hateful stalemate that was immoveable, static, a mountain or a moon, and I walked up the stairs trembling and I would end it. I would end it if I died. . . . → Read More: Darkness Is a Cannibal I was doing pretty good. No, really. I was. Not great; after a many-months long depression, I wouldn’t expect to bounce back to some kind of happy-chirpy version of myself. No only would that be unrealistic, but everyone who knows me would be bug-eyed with confusion and amazement, so that sounds a little freaky. . . . → Read More: Grief Is an Emotional Tsunami and Integrity Sucks but Being Syndicated at BlogHer Is Pretty Cool so I’m Calling Today a Wash My head hurts. Actually, I have pain from my forehead, up and around the back of my head, down into my neck, and spreading across my shoulders and down to my back. Why? Because I don’t like my kid much these days, and that’s a shitty way to be feeling. If I had a . . . → Read More: Under Siege Brian and Carter have gone to bed, closing out a day that I’d just as soon have skipped. There was yelling today. Also some stomping on the stairs, several episodes door slamming, and, of course, the requisite cursing. I wish I could say that all the bad behavior belonged to the small person who has . . . → Read More: The Mother I Was, the Mother I Am, and the Mother I Wish I Could Be Can you see my beautiful boy? He’s not invisible, but you might have to squint a little bit to see him clearly. You will be tempted to pity him, but rest assured that he will never make you small by pitying you. He will show you fear in a handful of dust, but he . . . → Read More: Beautiful Boy  |
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