Tag: mental-health

My Face, My Beautiful Face

It was my first time. I’d never had anyone fuss with my face, shape my eyebrows, those were things other women did, not me. I lay back on the table and she put a pillow under my knees. As she studied my face, she…

Smoke

I woke up smelling smoke. There was a fire somewhere. Was it here? It was still dark, maybe 5:00 or so this morning. Over the roof of the house across the street, I could see a beginning glimmer of sunrise but slight, so slight….

You Need to See a Shrink

Originally posted on Red's Wrap:
Every time I drive this patch of road, which is almost everyday, I remember being told right at this exact spot, “You need to see a shrink.” I was the passenger in the car. The driver was my…

Wishing for Monsters Under the Bed

I wish I had been less worried. If you ask me how I wish my childhood had been different, that would be my answer. I wish I had been less worried. It’s not a good thing for a child to be worried. Every day….

Secrets

Long ago, when I was a young woman and my boyfriend tried to end his life and ended up in intensive care after surgery to repair five stab wounds to his abdomen, my mother gave him rocks she’d found at the beach and a…

The Limits of Our Experience: Understanding Depression and Suicide

A few days ago, some people had a suicide story. Now, everyone has one. If you never knew anyone who died by suicide, not a single friend or relative, someone at work, down the block, you knew Robin Williams. Everybody knew Robin Williams. We knew…

Missing Her

I am on the hunt for Carefree. I once was best friends with Carefree but I haven’t seen her since I was about seven. You know Carefree. She’s the one who’s barefoot. She’s not worried about being hungry because she’s got a peanut butter…

We Get Better with Time

This much is clear to me about being a mother. Age makes us better. Death makes us extraordinary. My mother, gone now twelve years, has reached near sainthood. When the local paper solicited photos of mothers ‘no longer with us’ along with a short…

Note to My 19-Year Old Self

If this note had been left on my pillow when I was 19, I would have been offended. Advice from any corner, even my future 65 year-old self, would be an insinuation that I wasn’t running my own life well. And even if it was true…

Pedal Harder

If someone told you that you could ride that bike, that all it would take would be to climb up the silver pole, position yourself on the seat, put your feet on the pedals and your hands on the handlebars and fly that bike…

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