1 Comment

Quoting from a Patricia Hickman novel:

“How come people hide themselves from each other?” Delia asked.

“I think it’s because we want to be liked,” replied Gaylen.

“But not for who you are.”

“No. For who we’re expected to be.”

“So everybody likes you because they don’t know you. Where does that get you?”

 Where indeed?




Leave a comment

Every time I see my story told in my head, it ends the same.
The awful stuff still happens.
I still end up here.

Dammit, I want to edit it so that stuff doesn’t happen.  Or even edit it so that I’m over it.

But it always happens. I end up here – angry and depressed and impatient not to be.  It’s been 21 months.


I am trying to remember Cheryl Strayed’s advice, including “This is not ‘how your story ends.’ It’s simply where it takes a turn you didn’t expect.”

I certainly never expected to be here. I never expected to not have a 25th anniversary party because it would be embarrassingly poorly attended. I never expected to be pitied and avoided.  I didn’t expect to be the crazy person, alone in her own head.

This stuff is all very hard to accept, but I am trying. Trying, but I am tired.