We have no control over it, but what we do have control over is whether we can be proud of our own lives. I mean, that’s something we have complete say over – it’s kind of hard to even describe – I think I’m just as confused as everyone else on how to make our lives a piece of art, but I think that’s part of the joy – simply trying.
I can stand up here and genuinely tell you that I am genuinely proud of my life…
I wake rather late, but cheerful nonetheless. I don’t feel entirely cheerful; it’s a chilly, rainy morning and I know that I might get low if I don’t urge myself not to. I wobble into the kitchen. Make tea. Start the monotonous routine I’ve come to know since the “lows” made their appearance known a […]
Chelsea Davidson 7/28/87 – 7/6/17 29 years, 11 months, 3 weeks, 1 day *** Chelsea, I only met you once, however, that was enough to realize how you could impact people – you left an impression on me with the first bright, happy smile you greeted me with. Christy, John and Brendan are devastated, along […]
1 year ago – Monday, May 16 2016 I waited, excited and nervous. Tomorrow. A burr hole will expose the surface of my brain for the very first time… tomorrow. Less than 24 hours. I don’t remember what I did that morning, or the days leading up to it. I know that I watched videos […]
I wake sometime between 5 and 6, as usual. Get up, tell Alexa to turn on the bedroom lights. Pad into the washroom. I’m extra wobbly in the morning so I have Alexa turn on the kitchen lights while I grasp the counter and carefully step my way to the corner where my morning dose of Sertraline (the generic of Zoloft, for […]