Tinted, like looking at the world with dark glasses. When the growth of a personality is embedded with feelings of ‘badness,’ feeling abnormal, even dirty, it separates a being from others in so many ways… emotionally, spiritually, and intimately. Closeness is feared.

Anxiety arises. Any interaction with another human makes it pop like hot mercury. Though much of that has lessened, anxiety and the customary feeling of wrongness, or badness, are still issues dealt with daily. 

Living in a bubble is not my desire, but my needs require an environment that includes a great deal of solitude that is steadily familiar. Upsets in equilibrium interfere with my health setting off a reaction that is out of my control. But outings are still pleasurable.

A friendly gathering offered a place to really talk. Later at home the harsh voice began banging, “You monopolized the conversation. Can’t you see what they have been going through?”

Then a softer voice quietly budged in, “Give yourself a break. It’s OK to share. It doesn’t mean you aren’t aware of their struggles or pain, or that you don’t care. Let yourself off the hook. Think of the supportive things that were said, like, you are a good friend. Remember that?”

Remember that.



To live a life with invisible chains. To begin to experience freedom. To invest energy into the ones that matter, rather than everything else that doesn’t, but once used to seem to be all that mattered in order to survive. And that would be keeping the secrets of my mother.

It was never something that could be put into words because I was not cognizant of it, only that I needed her love. And instinct knew the trade was silence for love. Secrets sat like a beast inside me in the therapy chair.

It dwelt inside me since age eight, what each had done. The beast ate from the inside out. I was a silent mass of snakes, each one let out slowly; long, slimy, and treacherously reptilian. A brother once loved who attacked, but don’t tell.

How does one live curdled from within? Insides so confused not one sentence could leave my lips that made sense because the feelings were so twisted in order to appease the family. I grew to appease others, the being created unknown to anyone, most of all me.

Even now daily reminders are needed to allow my internal self to relax, and move in a way that is freer, calmer, and in my best interests. Ways that allow for healthy patterns of existence that others might take for granted, be it a more relaxed mind, eating in a way that is connected to my body, enjoying movement, and respecting my body’s needs without fear. 

The life sentence of rage that took all joy finally over in my fifties when writing the truth of what they had done bubbled up each week, and with it joy because the suppression of one thing suppressed the other. Healing. The truth like a soothing balm. The key was my mother’s death ten years ago this month, a loss mourned more than any other thus far.

Finally the freedom to be, tasted for the very first time, a continuing journey to explore as my true self becoms known.



photo by Patricia

My head knows what my heart does not. When a child is sexually abused by loved ones, her world turns and does not recover. My head knows the blame is not mine, but the soul, my core, became damaged in ways that won’t be undone.

People my age die. It is not uncommon. The growth so far may have to be. That is the way for everyone. We keep growing until we die. And mine is enough. I cannot have what I would have, but I can have now with hope.



Sinking down into myself, into the core, into my soul… really deep. Going past all the shattered pieces to where it all began, life. A soul born complete. You are there if you dare to find it. And it scares me.

Walking out to the shed with a raincoat over my bathrobe to shut the door left open overnight for some unknown reason, I look around at the beauty created. Walking back to the house every nook in the landscaping has a piece of mosaic made by my hands from that place inside of me.

I have taken blackness and made beauty. I walk the earth in a shroud of heavy seriousness keeping fears at bay, creating a counter punch with my work along with great conscientiousness to keep afloat.

There is more than saving myself from drowning. Touching home in my soul where connections are made with my body, not fearing it. Where unfavorable behaviors begin to be understood, forgiven, and treated gently. Where goodness is acknowledged in its authenticity, not blackened by the past and those who want to keep me there.  

There is a place I’ve hardly been, feared to go, and want to be.

You’r OK

This last bit of transition from winter to spring is purgatory; joyful warmth seeping in, feeling bliss one day, then three days of cold rain and winter blues. Feeling almost more depressed than over winter because a day or two of feeling better has occurred leaving me wanting more. Yet the blues have me.

Pushing myself out the door, my feet plod slowly, my spirits dipping low. By lap three the usual lightening of mood quickens my step and make me stand stronger looking around as if for the first time. Green everywhere, budding on trees, the grass emerald and bright,  birds happy and busy. Why can’t I be a bird?

Impatience for winter doldrums to be done makes still having them untenable. Acceptance of what is does not come easily, fighting all the way. Remember the basics. Be with what is no matter how scary it feels. Fears often makes things worse than they really are.

You’re OK, you’re OK, you’re OK, a constant mantra helping me through each day which was left behind when the thought arrived that it was no longer needed. It is needed. Even in the best of times, that reinforcement and encouragement is very needed.


photo by Patricia

Always a need to busy my mind, because without some distraction my wayward brain likes to dwell on negatives, real or made up. While walking in the crisp air on a sunless day, a day of beauty even without the sun, thoughts go to relationships that seem doomed no matter what. Then a little bird close-by is heard, chirping a song.

Snapping back to now, now is the moment. If you’re present with where you are, instead of drifting off, then what has happened, or will happen, won’t take you away. Can thoughts be better controlled this way? The walking around, lap after lap continued, and with it more enjoyment as the present is more realized and negatives are let go of.

Down by the creek… rest. The sun came out, and though the day is thirty degrees cooler than the day before, it is a spectacular spring day; trees budding, a full out cherry tree in bloom on the hillside all alone in its glory looking much like a rising moon, and suddenly a beaver ducking under the water to make a fast get-away.

Lingering by the sparkling water a settledness takes hold, and the brace of wholeness fills me. It is this quietness each day which satisfies deeply. My environment can be controlled so that stimuli doesn’t overload my senses. Nature’s activity suits me filling the cracks and the holes with peace. .