Tag: winter

Autobiography

Hoping for Sky

Ruby Pipes2 Comments

"Page @ Octavia Utility Wires" © Lynn Friedman, 2011. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.
“Page @ Octavia Utility Wires” © Lynn Friedman, 2011. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.
I’ve been sick since Saturday. Stuck in bed under blankets and forcing fluids. My time has been divided between Parks and Recreation episodes, attack plans for February, and conversations peppered with statements like, “No. Stop right there. No more thinking.”

Hush, little one, sometimes rest really is all you need.

Mental Health

As February Approaches

Ruby Pipes6 Comments
"Grateful" © Tom Malavoda, 2014. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.
“Grateful” © Tom Malavoda, 2014. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

February is coming.

We talk about how to plan an attack before I even think about the sunlight we get back now that solstice has passed. The mile-markers fly by with minimal recognition. I’m always bracing for something.

I want to feel like I’m moving forward, but every year it floors me. I try to tell myself that this year, yes, this year I can plan better. I can stick to the plan easier. I can do this. Every year I wonder what I have to figure out to make it different than the last. Then I wonder if it’s time to start blaming myself. Like I somehow force myself into bottoming out just by assuming I will. Continue reading →

Autobiography

Build

Ruby Pipes12 Comments

"Scaffold" © Andreas Levers, 2007. CC BY-NC 2.0
“Scaffold” © Andreas Levers, 2007. CC BY-NC 2.0
I am a baby deer. Timid steps and quick to spook. Sober for 309 days and still not sure if I know how to do anything new. We get so set in our habits, so sure that things are the way they are. The way they have been. The way they will be. I start to plan accordingly even when I have no evidence of everything crashing around me. I never learned how to embrace stability, how to trust love, how to build something without constantly questioning my foundation or worthiness.

But I’d like to.

So I start to pull back the covers. Stop trying to point fingers at all sorts of made up problems and finally lean into the idea that I’m just terrified of not facing a great tragedy. Absolutely petrified by the idea that maybe the things around me are solid. That I can count on them and that it’s okay to act accordingly. It’s okay to relax. To stop digging around in the dirt for a molehill to make a mountain out of. You can breathe now, kid. It’s okay. Continue reading →