I’ve had enough of foodAnd the way it makes me feelA necessary evil, at once requiredBut not enough to heal. A simple joy served upOne fist after anotherWould it be too much to ask…No, I shouldn’t even bother. The weight adds upThe pain compoundedJust a little more...
"Genuine grieving for our childhood ends our morbid fascination with the past and lets us return to the present, free to live as adults." - Big Red Book, page 83.My morbid fascination with my past perfectly describes the dissociative state I was in when I compulsively...
This writing is from the point of view of the ex-husband, with the twist of some of the descriptions coming from what I have learned in recovery. It describes some of the thinking processes involved in this dysfunctional marriage and family. Handed down from...
When I was ten, my daddy-Monster carried me out of the Pacific Ocean, yet failed to rescue me. Ten years old:One decade of domestic violence.One decade of explosive terror –from daddy-Monster. My parents drive usto Southern Californiato visit relativesand enjoy the...
(This italicized text is me talking!) (This bold text is the piano talking!)A black piano with wrinkles in its dark finish, was in the house when I became conscious, able to have memories, hold onto thoughts, sequence my world in my mind.I loved this...
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