Goodbyes are only goodbye if I want them to be. Life is about making connections and working to maintain them. It’s also such a wild ride that you never know where you’ll end up or who will end up there with you.
Fitting into Los Angeles wasn’t going to happen for me. Or so I thought, until I stopped trying.
“Four-and-a-half minutes was all it took to throw me back into this huge river of feeling, and it was exhilarating and rewarding and made me feel light and warm in a place that had been cold and damp for a long time.”
“Even if I didn’t think I was hurting her feelings, she’s telling me I was. So what is my end game with my current strategy – make her feel badly for bringing up an emotional issue that she’s uncomfortable with? Make her feel like dirt for being honest with her own feelings?”
I like to think I can control my anger, but I usually end up burning my own life down instead.
When the world feels dark, we have to find the light where we can and hold onto it. This is a story about a bright, shining spot of goodness: My Granny.
When waking up every morning feels like starting another steep climb, how do we keep our wits about us long enough to reach the top and breathe?
When the walls of my life seemed to be crumbling in on me from every angle, I knew someone would pay. That someone was usually me.
I refuse to make a New Year’s resolution. I can’t buy into that idea anymore, because I know it only sets me up for failure.
How can one negative feeling send a whole day into disarray? Why do feelings like worthlessness seem to snowball? How do I stop this?
Feelings about feelings: How do they work and why are they so awful?
Hope is light, hope is all that is good, hope is what keeps humans alive when all other circumstances say they should be dead. So why was I so afraid of this life-giving feeling?
Coping is a huge part of our lives and we all have our schemes, whether they’re conscious or not. In this particularly troubling time, it’s more important than ever.
My problem with grief is its general shape. Grief is somehow both slippery and sharp, rolling over you with sadness then sneakily attacking your soft underbelly with its claws.
This is about what we as individuals can tolerate comfortably before we’re pushed into emotional discomfort. We try to live in this comfort zone, but that’s impossible, because we’re human beings and rarely fit in any sort of box until we’re dead and literally lying in one.
“But those walls don’t just break down when you stop needing them, and suddenly what was keeping you safe is now hindering personal development. It blows. It’s a whole process of demolition and rebuilding and relearning what all these feelings are, and it is awful and glorious in equal turns.”