Remarkable New Friends, A Sleepover, And Cannabinoids

I deliberated over the prescription question with a few trusted friends.  When I sat down with Marty, who is a nurse, we brainstormed about alternatives to psych drugs over brunch.  I reminded her that I already meditate daily, that my anxiety is beyond what I can slow down with mindfulness practices an alarming amount of … Continue reading Remarkable New Friends, A Sleepover, And Cannabinoids

The Truth About Anxiety: I’m Afraid of Everything

I remember how I felt as a child after I was lucky enough to have a friend over to play.  I would say goodbye at the door.  Invariably, the moment I was alone would feel like all the air had left the room.  Though I was a bright, articulate little girl I'm quite sure I … Continue reading The Truth About Anxiety: I’m Afraid of Everything

Healing and Unconditional Positive Regard

On Saturday morning I wake from disturbing dreams: of my abuser coming after me--and of my cat purring in my arms while I rub my face against her silky neck and say to my friend "I know she's died, but she feels real."  Of course, Kira did die and I'm awake only a few moments … Continue reading Healing and Unconditional Positive Regard

On Suicide, Shame, and Small Acts of Courage

I am staying at a friend's house while she's away.  It is a beautiful, spacious place.  It is quiet.  I love it here.  But after I drop off another friend who can't keep me company all day, I am indescribably miserable. It hits me the moment he's out of the car and I wail all … Continue reading On Suicide, Shame, and Small Acts of Courage

PTSD, Yoga, and Why I Hate the F*cking Gong

I'm in the studio with friends, colleagues, and a photographer for a photo shoot.  When I walk to the front of the room to teach my segment, it feels odd transitioning from student to teacher.  Before long I settle into my own teaching rhythm and get everyone rolling around on the floor, preparing to rest. … Continue reading PTSD, Yoga, and Why I Hate the F*cking Gong

Approaching peril, do I trust my feet?

As I prepare to leave in the semi-dark, my friend continues to sleep in the other room.  I strap on my running watch and consider whether to conceal my stun gun, just in case.  He doesn't even wake up this early, I remind myself.  He doesn't know where I'm staying now or which trail I'm … Continue reading Approaching peril, do I trust my feet?

See the Light

After a few minutes, I begin to feel the pain of longing for the home studio I left when I fled my marriage.  My head throbs slightly, and tears pour down my face into my ears and hair.  Breathe, I exhort myself, and lie there with my sorrow and resentment.  I breathe and remind myself...