I have mentally begun this post for weeks, but a chronically ill life has a way of shaking loose any idea of control over one’s destiny. Anyone who has been ill for a while will understand what I mean when I say I’m suffering a bad case of doctor fatigue.
From Jane: I apologize for the lapse in time between posts. On March 1st, 2013, my wife’s mother died. It was 18 years to the day of my father’s death in the antipodes, so many miles and years away. In the following week, my wife and I helped her stepfather
I will try to connect All the pieces you left I will carry it on And let you forget I’ll remember the years When your mind was still clear All the flickering lights Filled up this silent house From Silent House (Finn, Maines, Robison, Maguire) I love the song ‘Silent
I’ve seen chaos personified over the last few weeks. Through the eyes of someone I love dearly, I’ve seen fear of what might become, fear of change, grasping for the rigidity of what is right now, while all the time the world of work and bills and society keeps plodding
Yesterday morning I felt grounded. I observed that I had moved to give up my fear of falling. I had taken a step toward mastering the shifting ground of my past. By the evening, the world had fallen down. Pain and self-doubt arose – the nagging fear that something was
I am the part of me I can’t accept. I think of dark things. I am twenty-five years old. I live behind closed doors, afraid of who might come to call, afraid that I will have to speak. Sometimes when I go outside. I cross the road so I don’t
I’m late with this entry because I was and am tired. I fell asleep and woke up past midnight, thanks to one of the dogs needing to go outside. Like last night, I feel strangely out of words. In a few hours, I’ll see my counsellor for a one-on-one for
I’ve long known intuitively that walking in nature heals me. I woke late after a morning nap today (on occasion, my body demands further rest after rising, and I’ve learned to listen). I decided to go into the back yard to clean up after our beagles. This is not a
I just returned from a restorative yoga class, and I feel… restored. It had been several weeks since my last class due to the holidays and related chaos. We arrived uncharacteristically early, and I felt anxious as I sat on a bolster, resting against the wall. I had spent a
A friend of mine is fond of the saying: “The only permanent thing is change.” That maxim has been true of my life recently, and will be for some time to come, I am certain. Words have circulated in my head. I have planned journal entries that flow seamlessly while