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Coming Home: Reclaiming Your Space after Abuse
If you lived with your abuser, or if your abuser spent any real time in your home, then you probably still see the memories — good, bad, and horrific — play out like movie clips right in front of you. Maybe you hear his laugh and smile sadly for the sweetness that once was. Or… you hear him yelling and wince at the malicious delight in his eyes when he sees that he hurt you. Maybe you even dread going home because you don’t want to keep reliving these moments, seeing and feeling the ghosts of what was, trying to push through the longing for what should have been. Maybe…
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Day 3: Hold My Beer
Today’s blogging challenge is to write about my biggest blogging / writing / personal challenge from 2018. Lawd. I’mma bless my own heart here. Because all 2018’s punk self did was look at me when I begged it for mercy and say, “Hold my beer!” If you’re not from around here, we Southerners have a phrase for when we think a situation’s found its most extreme point (2016 and 2017) and then that drunk buddy of yours (2018) comes along and emphatically yells, “Hold my beer!!!” This is the guy that’s gonna show everyone his ass, of course, and usually quite literally. Sane people would just say, “Challenge accepted.” Whereas…
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Back on the wagon…
So, real talk. I had big plans, and then fell off the bloggin’ wagon. I took walking-around pics for weeks thinking I’d make time to share. It’d be therapy, I told myself. But then my life got pretty awesome last fall and I was just all blissed out and distracted and didn’t “need” the therapy, and then, as it does, life just kinda went sideways last winter, and that turned into actual therapy. Honestly, it’s still pretty sideways, if not completely in a ditch upside on its crumbled roof. I don’t really know what to think most days. Even the good days leave me confused. Really does make my head…
