“When anxiety rears its ugly head, everything can look perfect. But all of a sudden, normal things feel like end-of-the-world things. Dirty dishes a mountain, laundry a tsunami, fighting kids a start of the third world war, bills are the crash of the stock market, relationship issues are the end of me having friends. Even though you can CLEARLY see it’s not, for me, that’s what the world feels like. You, my friend, can help me. You can love me in that space.”
“I want to pretend you’re in the other room, so I’ll even call your name. I want to taste it on my lips again. You fought, though. You fought so hard. But then you got so tired of fighting. The scars on my knees are a painful reminder of how I wouldn’t accept defeat with your last breath.”
“I came up from behind, put my arms around my wife, turned her around, and did one of those dramatic dip kisses. She laughed as I pulled her back up. It was then that I could feel someone watching us.”
“I love you, my long lost almost mother… My love for you IS unconditional, but your presence in my life is not. All I know, is that it hurts less when I am away. I know you hurt, and I hurt too. My plan was never to hurt you, or get revenge. However, I could not keep accepting your rejection.”
“10 years ago, my son died. I’ve never talked about it with anyone but my wife. It’s taken 10 years to realize I want to talk about it all the time. Public talk of grief is very, very weird. It’s all ‘sorry for your loss’ and tilted heads, cards with calligraphy and whispering. We’re on tiptoes all the time. But grief is not one thing. It’s not just sadness. It’s a galaxy of emotions put in orbit by the loss of someone you loved.”
“I can still smell the pungent cleaner that room smelled so strongly of. My gut told me he wasn’t telling me something. I immediately saw red. Oh the tears I cried. Nothing can prepare you for news like that, nothing. I wanted to protect her. She was perfect.”
“Those words stung. I heard them from beyond the bathroom door. I went home and cried before wiping away my tears. I have been shy and introverted my whole life. I am still shy, and I will probably always be shy. And that is OKAY! I’m done feeling inadequate for being myself.”
“Bring a meal, but don’t go in. They just had a baby, they need food. They don’t need to put on a bra, clean the house, or entertain.”
“‘Hi, my name is Teresa and I’m mom of six,’ I want to say like we’re in a support group. I still laugh at the whole concept of me being responsible for all these wonderfully, crazy children. Kids were not the plan. But as my husband and I stood before the photograph of a little boy praying, it was like blinders fell from our eyes.”
“That’s how it all started. A little bit of weed and a little speed. She believed people who told her it was no big deal. She wanted to get clean. ‘Daddy, I don’t want to go back to that stuff ever again.’ The rest of the story is buried with her.”
