And I Will Tell About It

What do we share when we stop hiding ourselves away? This is, of course, the internet, social media, the shame over guilt culture of appearance and perfection, and in these realms we skirt the truth, muddy it up, maybe forgo it all together. What happens when we decide, I'm going to share it? We're free.…

Could You Be Loved

George Bernard Shaw wrote, "if you can't get rid of the skeleton in your closet, you best teach it to dance." Oh how some of us toil to be rid of our pasts or our character flaws or our deepest, darkest secrets. Maybe instead, we ought to hang out and have a little fun with…

Squeaky Clean

I can remember the first time I felt truly clean, and I think I went off and wrote a poem about waterfalls and the color blue. Nerd. I was trying my best to express what it meant, that feeling of a freshly scrubbed┬áinner space. Like linens washed in lavender water, or what I imagine a…

Zoloft in High School

somewhere in 2003, a girl   I am seventeen years old, and I am depressed, and I think it's a cliche. I want so much to be good, but I cannot outrun, outdrink, outfuck this fear, and this fear is making me bad. I can barely get out of bed in the morning. Warning: May…

One Hundred Forms of Fear

When you're a child, all sorts of things may scare you: the dark, spiders, witches, whatever monster is lurking under the bed. As you grow though, and most of those acute fears lessen or vanish, a different brand appears, and it usually more subtle, an underlying sense of dread or insecurity. When I was trudging…

Waking Up

Real recovery is often likened to waking up, choosing to face reality without compulsively smoothing edges and running from what is uncomfortable, inconvenient, and frightening. Whether one is getting sober, confronting sex addiction, or quitting chewing gum at all hours of the day, stopping addictive behaviors, both highly destructive ones and the relatively benign, forces…