I married a teacher. I mean he wasn’t my teacher when I married him. That would be weird and illegal and make him old. I mean I happen to be married to a man who became a teacher. My brother
Last night was New Year ‘s Eve and I was alone. Not usually a big deal.Me being alone. I actually like to be by myself. It reenergizes me. But for some reason last night really bothered me. My husband had
I sat on the floor of her formal living room. I don’t think I had ever been in there before that night. We usually walked by the serious room and made our way to the family room. The room
This is where it had all landed me. The months of torture I had endured all boiled over me that Sunday morning. And by Sunday evening I was being watched by a police officer. Not even a police officer. I
I bought the high chair at a rummage sale. It was wooden with chipped, white paint flaking the sides. I had known from the moment I saw it that I wanted it to be mine. It reminded me of high
. This post was originally posted September 2013. I have been asked recently to tell part of my story again If for the only reason for one person to know they are not alone. You see when we start live in
2am. The clock said 2 am. Sitting up in bed watching the minutes go by. Begging the clock to go faster. If just for this night I needed it go faster. My hands clutching onto the side of my hair.
I remember thinking this is it. These are my last sane moments. The darkness wrapped like tar around my bones. I couldn’t breathe much less complete a sane thought. I would check my phone seeing if anyone had called me.
Second floor of the dorm, they had just completed it that spring. I lay on the bathroom floor. Cold tile against my ribs. Hair matted, crusted with last night’s red pasta sauce. Head propped on the toilet. Because of your wrath there is no
When I was in college they let me be a R.A. I know. Stop laughing. Ok. Now I am laughing. Because just re-reading that they let me be an R.A. means someone thought I would be a good example of