I’m 5 years, 2 months and 2 days post-stroke. (Likely 5 years, 2 months and 3 days, by the time I finish writing this. It’s late.) 5 years. 5. That’s half a decade. Oy. 3 months and 4 days since I last updated this site. Sorry about that; I just wanted to step back for […]
The last time I did it to myself, I didn’t realize what I was doing until it was done, but I knew it was coming, and that whatever it was, it was about to happen.
Adam noticed it while it was healing, showed me the below image, then ordered and surprised me with a set of non-toxic, skin-safe markers. Now I draw on myself…
Tomorrow, I will be cheerful. Tomorrow, I will be positive. Tomorrow, I will have energy. Because today, I just can’t. Today I am hurting. Today, I am not okay. And that is perfectly fine. Just writing that made me smile. See? Already getting there. 🙂
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…
Have you ever been sitting around, doing whatever, and then suddenly and out of nowhere you feel… different, somehow? Sort of like you’ve been locked in your body for several years and you’ve just woken up, even though you’ve been conscious all those years, you’re suddenly… aware. Alive, again. This might seem odd but something […]
I don’t know what triggers me anymore. What’s wrong? Oh, nothing, really. I’m just anxious. Depressed. Broken. Angry. Tired. Bored. Busy. Aphasiac. Worthless. A burden. A hindrance. Frustrated. ‘Lazy’. Working my ass off to simply go check the mail. Tired. Useless. Stressed. Worried. Frustrated. (Yes, let’s list that one again.) I’m in everyone’s way, all […]
Remembering Grace, again. And again. This year, I thought it would be 9 years within the hour. Nope. It’ll be 9 years in 48 hours and 38 minutes. Memory difficulties suck. She’d be 8 this July. There’s too much to write. I’ll sleep on it. Thinking of you, Gracie. Always am. ❤
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 […]